Dark Will Hunting
by The Smiter
Summary: An assassin and her students are sent to hunt down a corrupt sorcerer, but it becomes clear that there is more to their mission than meets the eye, as deception and treachery are uncovered. My first fanfic, please R&R, much appreciated! Completed!
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Diablo or any content thereof. All lore is either researched or assumed. All character names are of my own invention.

Chapter 1

Thelina looked out over the small encampment, eyeing each of the four other tents that her own stood apart from. It was not out of conflict that she chose to pitch her tent apart from the others, quite the opposite. As the most senior member of their party, she felt it her duty to watch over her apprentices and observe their actions. Soon they would be ready to follow their own paths and fulfil their duties alone. Until then, Thelina would make sure they were capable and safe.

The slim woman pulled her cloak tighter around her otherwise bare shoulders. The clothing of the order of the Viz-Jaq'taar was often kept minimal for added manoeuvrability, with the price of braving the elements. While senior in rank to her charges, Thelina was only five years the senior of the eldest by age. Even so, she chided herself for succumbing so easily to the warmth of her cloak. With her training in mental discipline, she should have been able to ignore the cold night wind. The thought of her students leaving were distracting her. Neither emotionless nor cold-hearted, the assassin still knew better than to feel so emotional over what she knew was the inevitable.

The sound of clashing steel brought her attention to the centre of the camp. Two of her apprentices had begun sparring. Predictably, it was the two boys. Pyem and Beck were far from muscle-headed, but like so many men were more attracted to the idea of combat than meditation.

Beck lunged forward with the katar blade strapped to his right wrist, the blow caught and deflected by the three-fingered claw attached to Pyem's left. The latter spun with the claw on his other hand, only to have it clang off the buckler Beck raised in defence. The claws and wrist blades were generally more common and traditional amongst the Viz-Jaq'taar, but the Order did not overlook the use of swords and small shields to meet the situation.

One such sword, with a flat hilt and long, straight blade lay in the lap of Ora, who ran a smooth whetstone down the edge with practised ease. She was awfully fond of her sword, which she had forged herself, and was often reprimanded for spending too much time focusing on maintaining it instead of training. So adept was she at sharpening the blade, Ora kept her hands in motion while still watching the boys, occasionally throwing out a playful rebuke against one or the other.

Although she would not openly show favouritism towards any one of her students, it was the youngest of them, Rathi, that Thelina cared the most for. The girl with red hair, rare in their part of the world, was always off to the side, meditating and focusing her inner energies. Each of the Viz-Jaq'taar was trained in such techniques, but Rathi took them more seriously than her fellows. She would even forgo all manner of weapons in favour of using only her skill in unarmed combat. It was her commitment and discipline that made her instructor care about her, almost as a younger sister. Thelina noted with approval that the sound of Pyem and Beck's weapons, as well as Ora's friendly mockery of them, did nothing to waver Rathi's concentration.

The lead assassin shrugged herself back into the situation at hand. Despite her normally proverbial patience, Thelina was growing sick of waiting. Their contact should have arrived two nights ago. Generally the Viz-Jaq'taar wandered individually from place to place, searching for sources of demonic corruption, the separation keeping them dependant on their own skills as well as strategically placed throughout the world. Only the teachers among the assassins would travel in groups with their students. However, there were rare occasions when they would be specifically requested by one of the few people that knew of the order's existence. Unfortunately, the majority of these few belonged to the Vizjerei mage clans. Therlina hated the idea of being a "hired assassin", especially to one of those Light-forsaken magi. The Viz-Jaq'taar were not tools to be used by the Vizjerei on a whim simply because they knew the order existed. Thelina supposed that the Vizjerei liked the idea of controlling the assassins; the magi had been the ones who had begun the Order so as to police their clans. Directing the assassins to his own ends would be a great satisfaction to a Vizjerei mage, primarily as he would thereby take a large target off of his own back. The main reason the assassins were kept as rumours was to inspire fear of retribution in the magi, so that they would not be tempted into using demonic forces. Knowing that he controlled a member of the Viz-Jaq'taar would be enough to lessen the fear of death in any member of the clan.

'Greetings to thee, Thelina of the Viz-Jaq'taar,' came a soft but powerful voice from behind her.

To her credit, Thelina did not even flinch. The mage had obviously teleported himself to her location so as to avoid being heard, and not just by her. The beasts of the forest stalked their prey at night, and with the world as it were these days, not all of them were of the mortal world. Thelina allowed herself a smirk. _Cowardly mage, _she thought. _Scared of a little hike in the woods._ Turning to the newcomer, the plates of armour encasing her legs clinking slightly, she barely inclined her head. The Vizjerei may be employing her, but she didn't have to respect him.

'Greetings, Karam of the Vizjerei,' she said. 'I was beginning to think that you had become lost.'

Karam looked mildly offended, which only pleased Thelina more. 'I can assure you my unpunctuality was not without good reason.'

'I and my students have had to walk for several days through the Ensteig foothills as well as wait an additional three days before you arrived. It had better be one hell of a reason to make us waste such time.'

Karam's eyes narrowed, and several runes on his _turinash_ robe began to glow. The lights faded has he regained his composure. 'Then rather let us not waste further time with pointless bickering. We have more important matters to discuss.'

'Indeed.' Thelina was glad to see that this Vizjerei, unlike most she had encountered was more readily able to put his pride aside to keep good favour.

Karam looked past her towards the encampment. 'You mentioned students. You should summon them. I would rather explain this only once.'

Thelina smiled. 'I don't have to summon them.' To the surrounding bushes she called, 'Stand down!' and four dark-clothed shapes materialised out of the shadows. Karam started in surprise.

'My students are trained to act upon the first indication of magic in the area,' explained Thelina. 'Luckily for you, you possessed enough foresight to appear so close to us. If you had approached from a further distance, they may have killed you before you reached the camp.'

Karam eyed the four younger assassins with a mixture of curiosity and disdain. To have so many Mage-Slayers so close was unnerving. 'Well, I admire your enthusiasm,' he said with a sniff. 'You'll need it for the mission I have in mind.'

'Enough exposition, mage,' Beck said evenly. 'What do you want with us?' Had he been an initiate, Thelina would have likely punished him for speaking out of turn, but given that they were near equals, Thelina was more lenient with her students than she would have been years ago.

'There is a corrupt sorcerer that has come to these lands,' Karam began. 'He arrived here a fortnight ago, and has been particularly disruptive of Vizjerei rituals since. He is cunning, however, and we have failed to capture him. His dark minions keep us at bay and cover his tracks. His magicks keep us from finding him through scrying, and he never remains in the same place for long.'

'Disrupting your rituals?' Thelina said quizzically. 'Why should that be of any concern to us?'

'It is not merely the fact that he disrupts us,' Karam replied. 'It is his abominable methods that mark him as corrupt. It would be in all our interests to dispose of him. You would not want his threat to grow any higher than his interference with the Vizjerei.'

Thelina mused on it for a moment. Karam had a point. If there was a chance that this corrupted one could grow in power, better to deal with him now rather than run the risk of unnecessary loss.

'The payment?' she said.

'Payment?' snorted Karam. 'What about your supposed code of honour? Since when do you charge any kind of payment for your services?'

'Our duty is not to perform any kind of assassination at the behest of the highest bidder,' Thelina said. 'We do what we do because it is our duty, not because we seek rewards for it. If you wish to hire our services for your own ends, you had best give us ample compensation for using us like common mercenaries.'

Karam grumbled, but had not come unprepared for such an eventuality. With a wave of his hand, he produced a large sack from nowhere. The rattle from within hinted at the contents being metal.

'Enchanted armour and weapons for your order,' Karam said shortly. 'Use whatever you need to catch the corrupt one.'

Pyem stepped forward and took the sack. The gifts would be greatly appreciated. The Viz-Jaq'taar was forbidden from using magic of any kind in order to avoid any chance of demonic corruption. However, enchanted equipment was allowed, which was a great assistance against foes that wielded sorcery. The Viz-Jaq'taar smiths were incapable of crafting the items themselves without using magic, and such equipment did not come cheap. What the Vizjerei offered now could probably feed a family for years.

'The payment is fair,' Thelina said, keeping her face neutral. 'We shall deal with this sorcerer.'

'Good,' Karam grunted. 'He was last seen some miles south of here. Give him no quarter, he must not be allowed to interfere again.' With that, the Vizjerei disappeared into thin air.

Thelina immediately turned to Ora. 'Did you notice anything?'

Ora, an expert on reading people's faces, nodded. 'He was telling the truth. There is definitely someone that he would have eliminated. He was hiding something though. I think there's more to this mark than he was letting on.'

Thelina nodded in response and turned to Rathi. 'Could you sense what it was?' While Ora could read people physically, it was Rathi's constant meditation and focus that allowed her to read them psychically.

'I couldn't dig in too deep, or he would have felt my intrusion,' the young woman replied. 'There was something else that he was hiding, but I was able to discern the nature of the one we seek.'

'Is he some sort of cultist?' Thelina had heard recent activities of a new cult arising that clung to the memory of the Prime Evils' invasion of Sanctuary.

'No,' Rathi replied. 'He is a Priest of Rathma.'

Thelina's eyes narrowed at the final word. 'A _necromancer…_'


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own Diablo or any content thereof. All lore is either researched or assumed. The name Zayl, as well as descriptions of spells are based on the Diablo novels by Richard A. Knaak All other character names are of my own invention.

Chapter 2

_Something here is not right_, Darkan thought to himself. _Something has changed_.

The tall, slim figure moved silently through the trees near the edge of the wood. Beyond the trees lay a Vizjerei ritual site, something that Darkan had been observing for several hours now. There were no Vizjerei around the site at that moment, but Darkan knew that he simply had to wait. The accursed magi would come eventually, and if they began what Darkan believed they intended to do, the Rathmian would be there to stop them. Their blasphemy would be at an end, and the Balance would be maintained.

Something was different now though. Darkan could feel it. There was a new presence in the woods. Not Vizjerei, for it was not magical, and not demonic either. But it was human, and humans were often overzealous or all too curious in their actions. Whatever it was that had triggered the wards that Darkan had set up the previous night, the unpredictable nature of humans could jeopardise his mission.

Darkan glanced back at the ritual site. To leave it now would be foolish; the Vizjerei could arrive at any moment. To not investigate what had triggered his wards would too be foolish; the last thing he needed when the magi did arrive was another set of distractions. Darkan took a deep breath to steady his thoughts and clutched his intricately carved ivory dagger. The runed mystical blade was a comfort on this dangerous mission, and clutching it as he weighed his options made Darkan feel as though he were more attached to a higher power.

'Trag Oul guide my path,' he murmured, hoping that the great dragon, the fulcrum of the balance upon whose back the world rested, would give him a sign.

Almost as if in answer, the necromancer sensed movement off to his side, out at the ritual site. Darkan turned to the ring of stones and watched as the Vizjerei began to arrive. Darkan gave thanks to Trag Oul and prepared to strike. He had to time this perfectly. While the Rathmian had no love for the Vizjerei, such was the nature of his clan, he would not kill the magi without first ascertaining their intentions. To kill them without reason would be a violation of the Balance.

The lead Vizjerei came forward to the centre of the ring as the others sat around him, framing the circle, about a dozen of them in all. The one in the centre began speaking, his voice deep and commanding. As Darkan listened to the speech, he began to relax. These were not the ones he had been searching for. The speaker told only of the rules and regulations of the mage clans, giving no indication of anything amiss. It appeared that Darkan had merely found a Vizjerei conducting a lesson to younger initiates. Indeed, those seated in the circle leant forward, enraptured by the speaker, hanging onto his every word. They were still adapting to their lives among the magi, each one adjusting to it in their own way. Some were eager to learn, to plumb the knowledge of the world, while others were merely hungry for power, to wield the magicks the Vizjerei commanded. They would have to be watched, Darkan mused. If they were to become too greedy, or too powerful, they would have to be dealt with. In this, Darkan was grateful for his own training. The Priests of Rathma, commonly called necromancers by the unenlightened, were studious and formal to the extent that emotion was almost forbidden. It was a demanding existence, and lonely, but it was deemed necessary to the Balance. Emotions could not be allowed to interfere with the duties that Rathma had placed before his followers. To allow such a thing would make their duties personal at the cost of the greater good. The Vizjerei had no such discipline, their own personal motives driving all their actions. It was one of the reasons the Rathmians hated the Vizjerei so much. The Vizjerei had their own reasons for hating the necromancers, mostly because of the latter's choice of subjects when it came to magic. It had often saddened Darkan that they refused to understand the true nature of the path of Rathma.

The speaker concluded his speech and bowed to each student in turn before exiting the circle and disappearing. The dozen students immediately began to talk animatedly to each other, discussing their plans for their futures among the Vizjerei. Darkan decided it was time to take his leave. There were more important matters for him to attend to. Whatever had triggered his wards was coming closer by the minute and he would have to make himself scarce before it arrived.

Ensuring he was far enough away from the Vizjerei students, Darkan began his spell. A variation on a basic necromancer curse, Darkan cast a field of blindness around himself. Ordinarily the curse would blind a specific target, but Darkan had experimented with the technique. Effectively anyone who came close enough to the area around him would see the world as it was, save for the necromancer hidden in plain sight. As long as he did not come into contact with whatever was looking at him, or make any loud noises, Darkan would be otherwise invisible to the world. He would have liked to take credit for his use of the spell, but unfortunately, it had been another Rathmian that had devised this way to use it, one by the name of Zayl. Now hidden from view, Darkan scaled the closest tree and made his way through the treetops. This way he would further avoid risk of detection.

He soon saw that his paranoia had been for good reason. No less than five figures made their way through the woods towards the Vizjerei site. Darkan, despite his wish to be gone from this place, could not help but stop and look down upon them. Each was clothed in various pieces of black armour, some quilted, some leather. The woman in front, clearly the leader, had covered her legs in metal plates but left her torso and arms almost bare, a single form-fitting piece of plate armour and a dark cloak all that maintained her dignity. Her close-cropped black hair and piercing eyes demanded respect and obedience. The others were all rather non-descript, two other women and two men, all various heights and all with dark hair of varying length. No, one was different, Darkan noticed. The youngest of their number, a girl that could not be a day over the age of nineteen with a fiery mane of red hair, followed behind the others. All five moved with a sureness and grace that indicated great discipline and endurance.

_So much like Rathmians_, Darkan thought. He did note, however, that there was no magical aura emanating from any of them, which marked them as not members of his clan. This unsettling indication should have caused him to leave at once, but his curiosity had been piqued and he remained where he was.

Slowly but abruptly, the redheaded girl at the rear of the group stopped and turned her head from side to side, looking for something. Darkan continued to watch her. There was something arresting about the way she carried herself, as well as something deeper, which he could not fathom at that moment. He shook himself. She was not of his clan and physical attraction was considered secondary to true virtue when selecting a partner among Rathmians. Such feelings were uncharacteristic for him.

Slowly, the girl tilted her head up, scanning the branches above. Darkan remained motionless. If he did not move, his spell would be all the more effective in concealing himself from her.

Her gaze travelled along the branches, resting momentarily in each tree before moving along to the next. She looked further along and finally stopped at the branch that Darkan squatted upon. She kept her eyes there for a while, longer than she had before with the other trees. A sudden realisation made itself known on her face, with a nearly identical one appearing on Darkan's.

She could see him.

Calling to the rest of her party, the girl reached into the depths of her cloak as Darkan made a break along the branch, attempting to leap to the next tree, the last vestiges of his spell fading. From the corner of his eye, he saw the girl's arm swing outwards from behind her as she ran after him, and three small shapes sped towards him. Darkan barely had time to duck before three metal blades thudded into the branch just above his head. Pulling his dagger from his belt, Darkan pointed it back towards the girl, simultaneously shouting words of a spell. An icy blue haze burst forth from the dagger and surrounded the girl's body. Her attempted pursuit of him slowed, her legs collapsing under her. By this time her companions had caught up to her, the leader dropping down to help the redhead, while the other three spread out, attempting to encircle the necromancer's tree.

Darkan wasn't going to give them a chance, leaping through the air to the next tree. Movement caught his eye as one of the men threw something in his direction. Expecting more blades, Darkan twisted in mid-air, with reflexes honed in the jungles of Khejistan. The object that flew past him was not a blade, but was instead a rather curious ball-like object made of leather and glass. Before Darkan could react again, the object exploded in front of him. Instinctively covering his eyes with one arm to prevent himself from being blinded, Darkan flung out his other arm in an attempt to grab a branch to save himself from falling. His fingers closed around wood and he swung back up towards the green leaves above him. If he could go up high enough, he could lose his pursuers in the trees, even if they could climb, which he had no doubt they could.

His plan was cut short again as a painful blast assaulted his head, sending him hurtling towards the ground once again. As he fell, he realised through his fuzzy thoughts that the attack had not been magical.

It had been psychic.

A sudden and painful impact with the ground knocked the air from his lungs, and he lay still for a brief moment to regain it. From his left he saw that the younger of the dark haired women was approaching him fast, a long sharp sword in her hands. Pulling himself up to his knees, Darkan drew a symbol in the air with his dagger in the shape of a sleeping eye and sent the spell straight at the woman. She instantly dropped her sword, her hands flying to her blinded eyes, a cry of surprise escaping her lips.

Taking advantage of his curse, Darkan whirled to run, only to find the two men barring his way. In each hand, they held curious weapons, wrist mounted blades and claws that Darkan had not seen in his lifetime. By the way they moved, Darkan could tell these two were incredibly adept with the strange weapons.

Deciding that the time for running had come to an end, Darkan took to the offensive. Raising his dagger as if to cast a spell, the necromancer saw his ruse caused the pair to react as he expected. They swiftly attacked to prevent him from concentrating on his magic. Ducking under their first thrusts, Darkan aimed for their legs, rolling between them and striking them behind the knees with the heels of his fists. With an extensive knowledge of the human body, learnt through the study of cadavers, Darkan had aimed his strikes at sensitive pressure points, bringing both to their knees with cries of pain. Spinning around, Darkan took the opportunity to slow them further. Drawing a symbol of three vertical lines within a circle, Darkan released another spell.

Hundreds of bones, accumulated over the centuries from long dead creatures, burst forth from the ground, forming a construct seven feet high that encircled the two men. They pounded on the bone cage from the inside; their physical attacks useless against the magical barrier.

Satisfied, Darkan turned to run, only to find the woman whom had led the party standing ahead of him. With no time to react, Darkan had barely brought his dagger up again before he was once more pelted with a psychic blast, bringing him back down to the ground.

As his vision started to fade to black, he was vaguely aware of a voice calling for someone to stay her hand. The last thing he saw was a blurry outline of the redheaded girl before he lost consciousness altogether.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own Diablo or any content thereof

Disclaimer: I do not own Diablo or any content thereof. All lore is either researched or assumed. All character names are of my own invention.

Chapter 3

Thelina looked down in satisfaction as her psychic blast put the necromancer on his back. She readied her katar, a keen edged weapon with three blades, ready to slice the foul one's throat open. A swift, clean kill; more than he deserved, but she could not risk him mounting another attack. This fight had already taken longer than she would have hoped.

'No! Stop! Hold your blade, mistress!' came Rathi's clear voice.

Thelina looked up sharply as her youngest apprentice came running up, her lengthy red hair falling over her face from her haste. Thelina frowned. It was not in Rathi's nature to hold back in dealing with corrupted sorcerers.

'Stand down, apprentice,' she said, hating having to order Rathi so sternly. 'We have him. I shall deal with him accordingly.'

'No, you must not!' Rathi said earnestly. 'There's been a mistake!'

'Rathi!' Thelina responded sharply. 'We were brought here to slay this necromancer, and you know the Viz-Jaq'taar do not take prisoners. You were the one who alerted us to his presence to begin with!'

'I acted in haste, mistress,' Rathi said, her eyes downcast. 'I had assumed that he was a threat when I sensed him in the trees. I did not take the opportunity to ascertain his intentions before we attacked. I have now, and I say to you that he is not the one we seek.'

Thelina paused, struggling between her lifetime of training and her fondness for her apprentice. Every instinct she had developed since she had joined the Order screamed at her to dispose of the necromancer. Simply his being a Rathmian would have given Thelina enough reason to kill him. The dark spellcasters desecrated the sanctity of the deceased, even going so far as to summon their departed spirits from the afterlife. Any closer to summoning demons the Rathmians could not come.

The assassin looked up into Rathi's eyes. They were pleading.

Thelina sighed in frustration and resignation. 'Very well,' she said. 'Bind his hands and take his dagger. We shall camp here tonight. That should give him enough time for him to wake so that we may interrogate him.'

Rathi fell to her knees, bowing her head. 'Thank you, mistress. Thank you,' she said, gasping with relief. Thelina simply stood and gave a dismissive gesture. As Rathi busied herself with finding a length of rope in her pack, Thelina went to investigate her other students.

Pyem and Beck were still within the necromancer's prison of bone. With the caster unconscious, it had lost the magic that held it together, the cage now being held together by the interlocking pattern of the bones. The men inside were making progress in freeing themselves, large chunks already breaking off from the inside out. To the side, Ora was sitting with her head in one hand, blinking rapidly, trying to clear the final lingering effects of the blinding curse. Thelina knelt down next to her.

'Remember your training,' she whispered to Ora. 'Clear your mind and chase away the magic.'

Ora nodded and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. While she drifted into a meditative trance, Thelina approached the bone cage.

'Stand back!' she called to the two inside. Taking a few steps back, Thelina settled into a fighting stance. As well as being masters of their own minds and crafters of unique and deadly weapons, the Viz-Jaq'taar were also experts in the field of unarmed combat techniques.

Channelling her inner energy, Thelina adjusted her weight and leapt forward, swinging her leg around in a powerful kick. As her foot connected with the cage, the energy she sent with it sent a shockwave through the whole structure, even causing a minor explosion at the point of impact. The cage burst apart from that point, bones flying in all directions, leaving Pyem and Beck standing looking rather stunned. They had clearly not been expecting it to do so.

Thelina noticed how both of them had a slight limp as they left the remains of the cage. Injuries to their legs, caused by the necromancer no doubt, coupled with the enclosed space of the cage had prevented them from using techniques like the Dragon Tail to free themselves as she just had. Both immediately bowed their heads.

'Forgive us mistress,' Pyem said. 'He tricked us by…'

'Enough,' Thelina interrupted gently. 'I would expect nothing less from his kind. You have nothing to apologise for.' She looked around the area, scanning for a clearing. She pointed one out to the men. 'Start setting up camp there. Get Ora to help you when she has recovered.'

'Camp, mistress?' Beck asked, surprised. 'Should we not contact the Vizjerei now that the corrupt one is dealt with?'

'Complications have arisen,' Thelina replied. 'Now set up camp. No questions!' she added intensely as Beck opened his mouth to speak again.

The pair nodded and went to retrieve the packs that had been dropped when their pursuit of the necromancer had begun. Ora, now freed of the curse, noticed them going past and trotted after them. Thelina returned to where Rathi sat, with the necromancer still lying beside her. His hands were firmly tied behind his back, and the younger assassin was sitting near his head, her eyes closed in meditative concentration. As Thelina approached, Rathi opened her eyes.

'I have been attempting to probe his thoughts, but it is proving difficult,' she said. 'While I earlier managed to sense no demonic corruption, he is now shielding himself against psychic interference. Even asleep, he continues to fight my investigation.' Rathi looked down at the Rathmian. 'But he does not do so maliciously. He is merely trying to protect himself.'

'That only shows that he is trying to hide something,' Thelina said darkly. She studied the fallen mage's face. He was young, having not yet seen twenty-five years by Thelina's guess, but his face was drawn and pale, a result of living in catacombs and caves away from the light of day. His hair by contrast was dark, matching the blackness of his clothing and cloak, and tied back in a long ponytail. His brow furrowed slightly, the only manner of expression on his face, indicating the subconscious conflict that he maintained to keep Rathi out of his thoughts.

'Alert me immediately if he wakes,' Thelina said as she rose. 'If he tries to escape, kill him immediately.' The head assassin walked off to help the others with setting up camp, leaving Rathi alone with the necromancer once again.

It had been nearly twilight when they had captured the spellcaster, and the sun was well below the horizon by the time camp had been set up and the prisoner dragged to the clearing. The others had initially been startled by the fact that he was still alive, Beck in particular, but if Thelina said that he was to remain alive, they were not going to argue. In the hour or so that the assassins had prepared everything, he had barely stirred at all. Thelina was beginning to wonder if she had perhaps damaged his mind in some way with her psychic attack.

'More like he's too scared to wake up,' Pyem scoffed. 'He probably thinks if he stays asleep for long enough, we'll all disappear like a nightmare.'

'You know, as long as he's unconscious,' said Ora, giving her sword a few practise twirls, 'we may as well search through his belongings.'

Thelina nodded in agreement. While the Viz-Jaq'taar were not common thieves, at the very least the necromancer should be separated from whatever wicked devices or artefacts that he carried. Without his dagger his threat was reduced significantly; without the rest of his arsenal, he would be nearly helpless. She signalled for the others to go ahead.

Beck and Ora knelt down beside the necromancer and began to untie the various pouches attached to his belt and dig through the pockets inside his cloak. Within they found various herbs, vials of strange liquid and a series of small runestones. Satisfied that none of these were of any consequence at the moment, the assassins turned their attention to a larger pouch that rested in a way to suggest that it contained something round. Beck unstrung it, opened it, and let out a curse and instantly dropped it, spilling its contents out onto the ground.

A small skull, like that of a child but horribly misshapen, with a handled spike driven through the top leered up at the party. A perfectly cut blue gem sat embedded in the exact centre of its forehead, twinkling mockingly in the moonlight.

'A trophy of some kind,' said Rathi, keenly interested. She picked it up off the ground and studied it closer. 'It appears to be from a member of the Fallen. Judging that the Rathmians hail from Khejistan, most likely it is a member of the Warped tribe. The gem is magically inserted, not from the creature itself.'

'Is it enchanted?' Thelina inquired.

'I can sense various enchantments upon it, mostly spells of protection, but I doubt this skull will be talking to anyone any time soon.'

'Put it with the rest then,' Thelina said. 'Rathi, you keep watch over him. The rest of you get on with your exercises.'

As the rest went off on their separate practise routines, Thelina went over to the fire in the centre of the camp, sat down next to it, and pondered their next move. The Vizjerei Karam, being an impatient creature, would likely come looking for her party to enquire as to the progress of the mission. To keep the necromancer alive rather than performing the duty they were known for would raise questions. Questions from the Vizjerei could turn into arguments very quickly, in turn changing into outright conflict, which would likely result in the necromancer's death in the end anyway. Better to kill him now and be done with it, if it were not for Rathi's insistence that the dark one was an innocent.

Thelina almost laughed at the idea. An innocent necromancer, the oxymoron of the decade. Although, she had to admit that the Rathmian's spells had been purely defensive and his attacks had been to delay his pursuers, not to kill them. If there was one thing the necromancers were not, it was cowardly. It was one of their greatest differences from the Vizjerei. The mage clans claimed courage in many situations; most would call their actions impulse and foolhardiness. The Rathmians, on the other hand, were meticulous and did not enter situations without a plan. If the assassins' prisoner had been fleeing them, it had been because they had disrupted whatever that plan was, not because he feared them. The coward killed instantly without thinking when chased; the planner would keep to his plan as closely as possible, with as few extra complications, such as unnecessary deaths, on his hands.

'Mistress!' called Rathi, breaking Thelina's chain of thought. The lead assassin stood and hurried over to her apprentice.

'I think he's beginning to wake up,' the younger said.

Thelina allowed herself a wry grin. 'Let's hope, for his sake, he's in a talkative mood.'


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not own Diablo or any content thereof. All lore is either researched or assumed. All character names are of my own invention.

Chapter 4

After more than an hour with his eyes shut, Darkan finally stirred. The psychic blast that had assaulted his mind had shaken him, and he had let himself slip into semi-consciousness in order to allow his thoughts to realign themselves, as well as letting him recover from the multiple spells he had cast earlier. He had felt another force attempt to penetrate his mind, and instinctively had thrown up disciplined mental barriers, and a few magical ones, to protect himself. The force itself had not been malignant; it had probed and felt its way through his mind, attempting to find a weakness in his shields. It had found none. Darkan had been trained to focus his thoughts and block off his mind so that no dark force could use him, or the secrets of Rathma, for their own ends.

Also the fact that the force was not magical in nature had worked in Darkan's favour. The wielder of the power was not a mage, and appeared to have little experience in dealing with such barriers in the past. Such power was apparently not used very often, or it might have stood a chance.

Darkan opened his eyes. He had been vaguely aware of what had been happening since he passed out. He had felt his hands being bound and his body being dragged across the leaf-covered ground. He had heard distorted voices and felt his possessions being removed from his belt and cloak. He had allowed such to happen, as he knew resisting would have lowered his chances of coming out of this alive. What he had not been aware of were the two very dangerous looking women that stared down at him now. One was the redheaded girl that now looked upon him with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. The other was the leader of his five attackers whose gaze held only coldness.

'Awake at last, necromancer?' the leader said with the hint of a sneer in her voice.

'Indeed I am, my lady,' Darkan replied, trying to be polite in spite of the situation. Rude manners would not help him escape this. 'Allow me to apologise if I have caused you or any of your companions any lasting damage. If I may…'

Darkan's attempt to rise was met with a minor psychic force from the cold woman, keeping him pinned to the ground.

'I did not say you could get up,' she said pointedly.

Darkan nodded as best he could. 'May I enquire as to whose acquaintance I have?' he asked.

'No.'

'I thought not,' Darkan admitted.

The redheaded girl shifted uncomfortably. 'Mistress, perhaps we should tell him. We were to kill him, but spared his life. He deserves an explanation, surely.'

'Rathi, enough!' her superior said sharply. 'It is already against my wishes that this dark one lives. I have no intention of giving him any information he could use against us.'

The girl shrunk back, visibly cowed by her mistress' hard words. But the simple exchange had already given Darkan some explanation. His captors had been sent here to hunt something, apparently him, but had mistaken him for what they truly sought. They also apparently had no love of necromancers, which was not a big surprise, seeing as so few did. Plus he had learnt the redhead's name. _Rathi_. The mere thought of the name sent an imperceptible shiver through Darkan's body.

'We shall be the ones asking questions, necromancer,' the cold woman continued. 'And to make sure you're telling the truth, we will have to gain access to your thoughts. Now you can either drop your mental barriers and let us do so, or we shall beat you within an inch of your life to make you drop them if we have to. It's your choice.'

Judging from what he saw in this woman's face, Darkan did not disbelieve her for a second. Reluctantly, he removed the blocks in his mind, one by one. Rathi knelt down next to him and placed a hand on his forehead. Immediately he felt her enter his mind. He instinctively began to resist, but he heard her voice suddenly resonate in his thoughts.

_Do not fear, _she said silently. _I will not delve into your secrets. I will go no deeper than your surface thoughts._

Though he had no reason to, Darkan trusted her and permitted her to proceed unhindered. She had not lied; she did not go any further than she said. However, he sensed it was also due to inexperience as well as courtesy. Rathi seemingly did not make involved mind reading a habit. Perhaps there was not much more she could do than read surface thoughts.

Once she had settled on an appropriate link, Rathi nodded to her superior, who looked back at Darkan. 'Now,' she said, 'tell me why you are here.'

'I am here on a mission,' Darkan replied, 'a mission of utmost importance to maintaining the Balance.'

The woman looked at Rathi in askance. 'He means his mission is for what he believes is the greater good,' her apprentice explained.

'Does this mission entail disrupting the rituals of the Vizjerei mage clan?' she asked.

_She's asking me specific questions_, Darkan realised. _She's making sure I cannot find any loopholes in what she asks_. Aloud he said, 'To a certain degree, yes, such disruptions are necessary to my mission.'

His interrogator kept her face neutral, but a glint of triumph appeared in her eyes. 'So you admit that you have slain Vizjerei, and that you have used your dark arts to cover your escape.'

Darkan frowned inwardly. Now she was using her own interpretations of his actions to trap him. 'Yes I have,' he said, 'if you consider my arts to be dark.'

'Indeed I do, necromancer,' she retorted. 'So far I have seen nothing to convince me otherwise.'

'If you will let me explain my reasoning, perhaps I may yet convince you,' he returned. _Please, _he said to Rathi, _allow me to present my case to her!_

'It is only fair that we hear him out, mistress,' Rathi said. 'I can sense that he truly wishes to prove his innocence.'

The older woman scowled, but motioned for Darkan to speak.

_Thank you, _he said to Rathi, allowing her to feel the relief in his thoughts.

_You had best be convincing in your explanation, _she said in return. _Thelina is not one to be swayed easily._

Thelina. Darkan could now put a name to the face. It was not much, but it made the woman more human in his eyes.

'I was sent here to investigate a source of evil energies,' he explained. 'We Rathmians consider it our duty to maintain the balance of good and evil powers in this world, and I came to this land to push back the evil that had arisen. After days of searching I eventually came across a group of Vizjerei involved in a ritual. At first I believed it to be nothing more than ceremony, but I soon realised they intended to summon demons into the world.

'I had no choice. I could not allow them to skew the Balance so. I attacked them without mercy. Some fought back, others fled. Many were able to escape. I have been tracking them for near two weeks now, striking wherever I could find Vizjerei attempting to use demonic energies. There are still things amiss though. The leader of these corrupt Vizjerei still eludes me, and his followers have not yet given up their cause. My mission will not end until each one of them has been dealt with.' Darkan looked at Rathi expectantly. She turned to Thelina.

'Not a word he spoke was false,' she said. 'What he says is the truth, in his own mind at least.'

'If everything we believed in our minds was truth, then there would be great contradictions in the world today,' Thelina said, still not completely convinced, although doubt had begun to creep into her expression. 'You can prove your words then, necromancer?'

'I can offer no more proof than that which you have allowed,' Darkan replied. 'If you would seek to find truth in my thoughts, yet not believe when you found it, then there is nothing more I can do to convince you.'

Thelina pondered for a moment. She said nothing, but her face spoke more words than she could have articulated herself. She did not like the idea of trusting Darkan, but the evidence was weighed against her. Eventually she sighed, frustrated.

'I can find no reason to suggest that you are corrupted,' she said in a slightly strained voice. 'Not by demonic powers at any rate. I may not approve of your own beliefs and practises, but as they are not linked to the workings of demons, executing you would serve no purpose. It appears you are free to go. Gather your belongings and leave at once. I may have spared your life, but I don't want you in my sight any longer than necessary.'

Darkan nodded and began to rise, but Rathi was apparently not done. 'Mistress, it is late. He has been through much today, and I doubt he has eaten since at least yesterday. Please, let him stay, just until the dawn.'

Thelina apparently would not allow herself to lose her temper with Rathi, but Darkan noticed that the apprentice was beginning to push her luck a little further than she would normally.

'Rathi, you ask too much now! It was you who pleaded with me to spare him, and I was willing to humour you in that, but this I will not allow! He is not welcome here.'

'If it is your mistress' wish, I will leave,' Darkan said, attempting to avoid conflict. The girl's hospitality would have been welcome, but Darkan had endured far worse than a few nights in the wood with little food or sleep in his time.

_You cannot leave, _she said in his mind, which came as a surprise, as Darkan had not believed them to still be linked. _There is more to this. I can feel it. It was not by chance that you crossed our path._

'Mistress, what harm could there be in allowing him to stay? We have all of his possessions, and he would still be bound. If he could attack us without his possessions, surely he would have by now.' Rathi would not let this go easily.

Thelina scowled deeply at Darkan. He realised she would rather focus her rage on him than her apprentice. If it kept the peace, Darkan could live with that.

'Fine,' she said at last. 'But he will be guarded at all times. And you won't do so alone. I won't risk any of us being taken by surprise.'

Rathi kneeled, breathlessly thanking her mistress, who merely turned away and stalked back to the campfire.

'You did not have to put yourself at odds with her,' Darkan said as Rathi stood again. 'I thank you for your concern, but I am not inexperienced in wandering alone.'

Rathi shook her head. 'It is not merely out of concern.' She looked away across the encampment. 'I believe that fate has something in store for you, and for me, and for all of us here. We must simply wait. It may yet become clear what fate intends.'

_If you cannot find a path, wait, and the path shall find you._ It was an old lesson amongst Darkan's people, supposedly taught by Rathma himself. To have it spoken by one not of his clan made him feel astonished and perplexed.

Yet at the same time, it gave him hope.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I do not own Diablo or any content thereof. All lore is either researched or assumed. All character names are of my own invention.

Chapter 5

Rathi scooped a ladle of stew out of the cooking pot that sat above the fire in the middle of the encampment. Turning, she strode back to where the necromancer sat propped up against a fallen log. Beck sat nearby, his talon weapons attached to his wrists, his focus on the prisoner unwavering.

It seemed strange to Rathi to think of him as a prisoner. The necromancer, Darkan, as he had given his name even though he had not been asked, had accepted his position so willingly and without resistance that it felt more right to think of him as a guest. Beck had not shared her sentiments. Upon hearing that Darkan was to be watched the night through, only to be released in the morning, he had not hesitated in voicing his protests. Thelina had in turn given him the duty of watching the necromancer with Rathi.

'If you feel so endangered by him, you can be the one to make sure he is of no danger to us,' the lead assassin had said.

Rathi had accepted her duty to watch Darkan with no protesting and more than a little enthusiasm. In spite of her oaths to the Viz-Jaq'taar, she was fascinated by the magic and the effect it could have on people and the world as a whole. She understood that the misuse of such power was dangerous, and would never attempt to control something so volatile, but it did nothing to stop her being interested.

She set the bowl of stew down next to Darkan. 'I thought you might be hungry,' she said with a hint of apprehension in her voice.

The necromancer looked first at the bowl then at her. 'You must think me adept indeed if you believe I am to eat with my hands bound,' he said. His voice carried no malice; he had intended the statement as a friendly joke. Rathi smiled, but Beck simply frowned.

'Thought you necromancers didn't have a sense of humour,' he said gruffly.

'I was simply attempting to be good natured,' Darkan said in return.

'Hah! As if someone like you is capable,' Beck sneered. 'We've seen the kind of things you carry around with you. Your nature is far from good, sorcerer.'

Darkan looked down to his side, where the pouch containing his Fallen skull had been tied earlier. 'Ah,' he said, comprehending, 'you found my trophy.'

'Why do you carry around a demon's skull?' Rathi asked curiously. 'As a trophy over the Fallen, it is hardly worth a second glance. The Fallen tribes are not known for their intellect or their courage in battle.'

Darkan said nothing, causing some disappointment in Rathi. She had been genuinely interested to know if the skull meant anything, if it served some ulterior purpose than mere decoration.

'I'll untie your hands so that you can eat, but your feet will have to remain bound,' she said. He merely nodded.

As Darkan began to eat, Beck stood up. 'I'm sick of this. I'm going to scout the perimeter. I'll still be close enough to see you, necromancer, so don't get any ideas about jumping Rathi here, or I'll put steel through your brains.'

Beck walked off into the surrounding trees. Rathi knew that although they could no longer see him, he could more than likely see them without difficulty. Such was the skills of concealment of the Viz-Jaq'taar. She continued to watch Darkan eat in silence.

'You seem to possess a unique trait amongst your fellows,' he said finally. 'Are none of the others able to read thoughts like you?'

Rathi's mouth twitched in an attempt not to smile. 'You like to keep your secrets. Why should I tell you mine?' she asked half-mockingly.

'You are right, forgive me,' he said. 'I had no right to ask you. I have just never encountered any such as the likes of you and your companions. You are unlike any kind of mercenaries I have ever met.'

'We are no mercenaries,' Rathi replied. She hesitated before continuing. 'I suppose there is no harm in telling you. We are of the Viz-Jaq'taar.'

Darkan's eyes widened slightly. 'The Mage-Slayers? I had always believed they were simply legends invented to frighten the Vizjerei into submission.'

'There is some truth in that. As long as we remain secret, we remain among the unknown, and men always fear the unknown. We are an intangible threat, one that cannot be found to eliminate.'

'Yet you tell this to me freely,' Darkan said. 'Do you not believe that you are jeopardizing yourself in telling me this?'

'Not at all,' Rathi said. 'You have not thrown your lot in with demons. That gives you no reason to fear us.' Catching Darkan's pointed look at her, she added, 'Not anymore, after this…' her voice faded into an embarrassed smile as she realised she was not sounding very convincing. Darkan returned with a slight smile to reassure her.

_Damn it, Rathi_,she chided herself. _First you beg for his life, humiliating yourself in front of the others, and now you're making a fool of yourself in front of him too! What is wrong with you today?_

Giving herself a shake, Rathi turned her attention back to her earlier question. 'Now I have told you who I am, so it's your turn. I want to know about that skull. How did you come by it? Why do you keep it?'

Darkan hesitated. 'If I may say, it is rather a personal matter,' he said. 'I would rather not speak of how it came to be mine. As for why I keep it, the answer is twofold. As the remains of both a demon and a once-living thing, the skull is a focal point for magical energies. It has assisted me in speaking to the departed and has enhanced the efficacy of my spell crafting when I have been in dire need. The gem embedded in the skull acts as a channelling device to keep the energies I call upon under control.'

When he did not continue, Rathi asked, 'You mentioned your reasons were twofold. Why else do you keep it?'

'As I said before, a personal matter,' he replied, silently pointing out that he would speak no more on the subject. Instead he returned to his earlier question. 'Of all the legends I have heard of the Viz-Jaq'taar, I have never heard of their ability to read thoughts or to link minds.'

'No, it is not a common trait,' Rathi said with a touch of hesitant pride. 'We all train our minds in order to focus inner energy, mostly in an offensive manner. It keeps us from being corrupted by magic. I spent so much time in channelling my energy, it just sort of…happened.'

Darkan gave her his wisp of a smile again. 'Dedication, another uncommon trait in people these days,' he said. 'It is something to be admired.'

Rathi had to turn her head so that Darkan couldn't see her blushing. Life as a member of the Viz-Jaq'taar left little time for relationships, and while she knew that many of the other students in her order had found her attractive, she had always turned them down. She considered her duties more important than her own needs. Also, the other students had been young, driven by emerging desires. They would not have given her real devotion. To meet someone like this necromancer, who complimented her and showed her true respect, was not something she had encountered much before. Apart from the students, most of the men Rathi met died mere minutes later.

'Have I said something wrong?' Darkan asked, misinterpreting her reaction.

'No no, not at all,' Rathi said, trying not to sound flustered. 'It's just…'

'You've finished eating then, necromancer?' came Beck's voice as he re-emerged from the surrounding trees. 'Then you won't be needing your hands for anything more.' Beck knelt down and retied Darkan's arms behind his back, pulling the ropes a little tighter than he should have. Not even a flicker of pain crossed the Rathmian's features.

'I get bored easily on night watch,' Beck grumbled. 'And the fact that we have to sit here watching this piece of blight just makes it worse.' He gave Darkan a thoughtful look. 'If we knocked him unconscious again, we could go straight to sleep. Shouldn't be too hard, he looks like a few knocks could put him under for quite a time.'

'Beck!' Rathi exclaimed, half shocked, half outraged. 'Despite what you may think, he is an innocent! You know what our code says about harming the innocent.'

'I know full well what the code says,' Beck said. ' "To intentionally harm one of the uncorrupted is equal with the corrupt committing the same act." You still seem to be hinging on the idea that I do not find this one corrupted.'

Rathi finally lost patience. She stood up, and, despite being nearly a full head shorter than Beck, her presence became intimidating as she stared him down. 'Thelina said he was not to be harmed. She assigned me to guard him. It was by my request he remains here tonight. He is therefore _my _responsibility, and I tell you now, if you so much as touch him without my leave, I _will_ make you regret it.' She neither yelled nor screamed all this. Instead Rathi had spoken in a low, even voice that had sounded more dangerous, more expressive of her intent than any shouted statement could have.

Beck was only able to hold her gaze for a few seconds more before he quailed. He attempted not to show it, by shrugging and saying, 'If you want to guard him so badly, you can do it alone. If he kills you in the night, I'll tell Thelina it was your own fault. Enjoy yourself.' With that, Beck stomped off towards his tent.

It took Rathi a full minute to realise that Darkan had been looking at her in astonishment.

'I can honestly say I have not seen your like before, Rathi of the Viz-Jaq'taar,' he said. 'That was quite a performance.'

Quite unexpectedly, Rathi found herself suddenly speechless. She opened and closed her mouth a few times, trying to make a coherent sound, but she had nothing she could say. Darkan simply gave her a nod, turned over onto his side and began to drift off to sleep.

Attempting to clear her thoughts, Rathi hurried over to the edge of the camp away from all the others and took a few deep breaths. She was giddy from confronting Beck so, and her strange feelings towards Darkan were still bothering her.

She focused her energy, like she had so many times before, and allowed it to flow through her body like a cooling stream of water, steadying and calming her. Her senses expanded, making the night wind's caress smooth and comforting. This was why she enjoyed her meditation so much. It made her feel so comfortable and safe, away from the rest of the world.

Something shifted on the edge of her consciousness, making her eyes snap open. There was an intruder in the camp.

Rathi spun, drawing her energy to her hands, preparing herself for a fight. As she turned, she caught a glimpse of a figure looming ahead of her before a stunning blow impacted with the back of her skull.

As she fell to the ground, the encampment swirling before her eyes, she heard someone approach her attackers. The newcomer walked slowly, confidently, showing no surprise. Rathi heard them begin to speak, and with shock, she recognised one of the voices. She tried to hold onto it, use it as an anchor, to no avail as she slipped into unconsciousness.

The voice…it's…it's…

Everything went dark.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I do not own Diablo or any content thereof. All lore is either researched or assumed. All character names are of my own invention.

Chapter 6

_The tribe of Fallen never saw him coming. Darkan fell upon them like a man possessed, slinging curses left and right with barely any thought, whirling and stabbing with his dagger again and again, bringing the diminutive demons to the ground in pools of blood and spilled organs. Yet no matter how many he cut down, they rose again, their shaman invoking demonic fire to fill their veins again, sending its expendable minions to attack Darkan over and over._

_The necromancer cared not. _Let them come,_ he thought. _Let them come so that may feel my wrath evermore. _Rathmian law expressly forbade such emotion, but Darkan had lost something to these demons, something he was not going to forget any time soon. All he wanted now was to reach the shaman and claim its life. If he had to exterminate every single member of the tribe ten times over, so be it._

_Closer and closer Darkan fought his way through the mob. The shaman was so close, near enough for it to strike Darkan with its ornamental staff. Instead, it conjured fire, ready to release it, and –_

'Where is she, necromancer?' shouted a distinctly angry female voice.

Darkan was instantly awake, his memories fading back into his mind from his dreams. He found himself with all of the Viz-Jaq'taar standing over him with weapons pointed at his throat. Then he realised there were only four of them.

'Where is Rathi?' he said, concerned.

'Did I not make myself clear?' snarled Thelina. 'That's what I just asked you! Where is she?'

'I do not know,' he answered.

'You were the last person to see her,' Thelina protested. 'You should know something.'

'The reason for that being that someone else was rather neglectful,' Darkan said, glancing pointedly at Beck.

The male assassin's eyes narrowed and he grabbed a handful of Darkan's shirt, pulling him up so that their faces were a hand's breadth apart. 'Are you saying that this is _my_ fault, necromancer?'

'You were the one who disobeyed your orders and left her alone,' Darkan replied coolly, his face passive. 'I had no choice in the matter, but you did.'

'Enough.' Thelina reached down and pulled Beck off. 'Beck may have disobeyed my orders, but his punishment will have to wait. Don't try to avoid the issue. I'll ask you one more time: Where is Rathi?'

'I can only say that I am as puzzled as you are,' Darkan said. 'She was here when I fell asleep. Beyond that, I can tell you nothing more.'

Thelina lowered her katar. 'You had better not be lying to me, although I see no reason why you would at this point. Ora, turn him loose.'

'What?' Ora asked. 'Mistress, why would…'

'We said we would release him in the morning, and so we shall. Pyem, fetch his belongings.'

Pyem said nothing as he turned to obey, but the look on his face showed that touching the necromancer's macabre arsenal was the last thing he wanted to do. Thelina turned her attention back to Darkan as Ora untied his feet and hands.

'You are free to go, necromancer,' she said as he rose. 'While I still do not trust your intentions, we have our mission, and now we have to find Rathi as well. It would be to your benefit that our paths do not cross again.'

Darkan bowed. 'I thank you, my lady. You have shown great restraint and patience with my presence, things that most others would not do. However, I would ask one more thing of you, if I may.'

'Make it quick,' Thelina said, 'we have work to do.'

Darkan took a deep breath before continuing. The odds of the assassin agreeing to what he was about to suggest were slim. 'Considering the events of the past few days, it would seem that our intentions are not so diverse. I was sent here to deal with the strange cult that is arising within the Vizjerei ranks, while you were sent here to exterminate a corrupted sorcerer, supposedly myself. You have since ascertained that I am not the one you seek. In my opinion, you have been mislead, your attention focused away from the Vizjerei. In this, they would have you distracted from their plans, while at the same time disposing of the threat of myself disrupting their rituals.'

'Your point?'

'Allow me to assist you in your mission.'

'Out of the question,' Thelina said instantly. 'It was only by Rathi's request that I allowed you to spend the night at our camp. I owe you nothing.'

'But I owe her,' Darkan returned. 'Thanks to her, I am still alive. To find and, if necessary, rescue her alone would be folly if the opportunity to seek assistance presented itself. If we search for her together, our chances would be better, as would the odds of stopping the corrupted ones.'

'We are Viz-Jaq'taar, dark one,' Ora said. 'We do not help from one who hides behind blasphemous magic like you.'

'Whatever your opinion of my methods, they are ones you do not possess,' Darkan said. 'I know that you have abilities for tracking and hunting sentient beings, but perhaps a combination of efforts would save us time.'

'There is no "us" in this equation,' Pyem snorted as he approached, his arms laden with Darkan's equipment. He dropped the items unceremoniously in a pile at the necromancer's feet. 'Take your devices and be gone.'

'Wait,' said Thelina. 'He is right.'

The three apprentices stared at her, eyes wide. They said nothing for a second or two, and then all began talking at once. None of them could believe that their mistress was suggesting that Darkan could help them. The Rathmian himself simply knelt down and retrieved his gear as they argued. He allowed himself a moment of nostalgia as he picked up his dagger and the Fallen skull trophy. Both were symbols of his past; the dagger a reminder of his pride as a Priest of Rathma, and the skull a reminder of what had lost, both strengthening his resolve. He was sworn to protect the Balance against all threats that could tip it to the side of evil.

He would not allow an innocent to fall victim to a demonic threat. Never again.

'If we are to find Rathi, we should begin immediately,' he said. His voice was soft, but it carried over the protests of the apprentices, silencing them instantly. Thelina nodded.

'What do you need to find her, nec- Darkan?' she asked, attempting to be civil, for Rathi's sake.

'Which tent is hers?' he asked. Thelina pointed and Darkan strode over to it, walking straight past the apprentices, ignoring their suspicious glares. Pulling aside the tent flap, Darkan peered inside. Rathi kept her tent simple. There were very few belongings apart from the furs upon which she slept, mostly weapons and devices such as those the assassins had used to capture Darkan. He knelt down by the head of the furs and began to search. He quickly found what he was looking for.

'What exactly are you looking for?' Thelina asked, poking her head inside the tent.

'This,' Darkan replied, holding up four long red hairs. 'As a part of her very body, these hairs maintain a strong link to her. With the right spellwork, I will be able to determine which direction she currently lies in. Not a perfect method, but it will be helpful nonetheless.'

'Do what you have to do,' Thelina said.'

Kneeling down in the centre of the camp, Darkan began his work. Drawing a circular symbol on the ground, he inscribed runes at the edges, and then placed the trophy skull at the top. Carefully placing one of Rathi's hairs in the exact middle of the design, he extended his hand and pricked his forefinger with the tip of his dagger. The assassins looked on in disgust as he allowed three drops of his blood to fall onto the hair.

'Blood as a catalyst,' said Pyem, shaking his head. 'Inhuman.'

Darkan ignored the slur, concentrating on the spell. Speaking in the ancient language from which most modern spells were derived, he turned his dagger hilt up and plunged the blade down to the earth. A small flash of light burst and died as the dagger's point bit through the hair and into the soil beneath. The dagger itself glowed faintly as Darkan removed it.

'It is done,' he said, picking up the skull and replacing it in its pouch.

'So where is she?' Thelina asked impatiently. Darkan could tell that even though she had agreed to his suggestion, she was still not comfortable with such "blasphemous" magic being used in her presence.

The necromancer held the dagger at arm's length, slowly turning in a circle. Before he had turned all the way, the dagger glowed brighter.

'There,' he said. 'She is in that direction.'

'How can you be sure?' said Beck incredulously.

'Are you implying that I have perhaps made a mistake in my casting?' Darkan returned, beating down his irritation. He did not want to admit it, but this Beck was grinding his final nerve. The assassin was suggesting fault in something he knew nothing about. His arrogance would be something to be monitored. If Beck acted in rashness or haste, Darkan had a feeling that the necromancer would be the one to feel the brunt of his aggression.

'I trust your spellcasting about as far as I can throw a baboon demon,' Beck snarled. 'Mistress,' he said, turning to Thelina, 'you cannot seriously be considering following this dark one into the forest. He may have an ambush waiting for us just beyond the encampment. I implore you, let us be rid of him and search for Rathi on our own!'

The lead assassin had shown great patience with her students' protests, but Darkan could see that Beck had tried her too much this time. Thelina stomped forward and dealt Beck a powerful cuff to the back of his head, almost knocking him off his feet.

'Question my authority again, and you will find yourself in a very undesirable situation, _apprentice_,' Thelina hissed, steel in her voice. 'You have already disobeyed my orders once in the past day, and I have already decided to allow Darkan to assist us. Know your place, and obey!' Turning to Darkan she said, 'Lead on, Rathmian.'

Darkan nodded and started off into the woods, the Viz-Jaq'taar following behind him, Beck bringing up the rear, muttering to himself with his head bowed. The assassins had decided to leave behind the majority of their belongings, taking only their weapons and whatever devices they could carry without slowing themselves down. For all they knew, Rathi was in terrible danger, and dead weight was the last thing they needed to save her.

Every so often, Darkan would stop and raise his dagger, whispering his spell, causing the dagger to glow once again, redirecting their path as necessary. They had travelled for hours before the faintest hints of worry began to edge into his mind. If Rathi had struck out on her own, or been kidnapped, she would not have been able to cover much more distance in the few hours of night that had remained than the party had now travelled. It could have meant one of two things. Either she was still moving, not resting and continuing at a hard pace, or she had been transported somewhere magically, covering a great distance in no time at all, in which case it may already have been too late to help her.

Darkan put such thoughts out of his mind. To allow doubt to cloud his concentration would do nothing but demoralise him, and thereby cause him to lose face in front of four well-trained Mage Slayers. It was not a prospect he enjoyed dwelling on.

Stopping again to reconfirm their path, Darkan felt a flutter of hope as the dagger glowed brighter than before.

'We are getting closer,' he said to the others. 'Rathi cannot be far now. The dagger is indicating her presence is stronger here.'

A look of hope and relief showed across Thelina's face. It made her look far more innocent than Darkan had seen her before. The look suddenly vanished to be replaced by one of concern as the assassin spun on the spot.

'Viz-Jaq'taar, to arms!' she shouted.

Her warning came an instant too late as dozens of orange-cloaked forms appeared from the surrounding trees. A contingent of Vizjerei mages emerged, mystical staves aimed at the party.

'Well, well, well,' came a voice from the trees. 'Is this not an interesting sight?'

The Vizjerei Karam marched out of the circle of mages with an ugly smile on his face.

'I must say, Thelina of the Viz-Jaq'taar, I am rather disappointed.'


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I do not own Diablo or any content thereof. All lore is either researched or assumed. All character names are of my own invention

Chapter 7

Thelina couldn't decide which was more humiliating: the fact that she had fallen into an obvious trap, or the fact that it was the Vizjerei that had set it.

Being trussed up like some game animal in preparation for a feast was high on the list too. Bound to a sturdy wooden stake at the edge of the forest, hands stretched behind her back, any sort of movement from her upper body was uncomfortable.

She was grateful for one small thing. The Vizjerei had overlooked the idea of keeping the party separate and had tied the others to adjacent stakes. Pyem was subtly testing his bonds for a weakness, while Ora was spitting insults at any mage that walked past them. Beck stared at his feet, a look of consternation on his face, and Darkan merely stood and accepted his situation seemingly without worry or concern, just as he had when Thelina's party had captured him not so long ago. It was enough to make the lead assassin suspicious.

'Was this the plan all along, necromancer?' she asked. 'To lead us straight into the waiting arms of the Vizjerei?'

'If the Vizjerei had wanted to capture you, they would have been too proud to enlist the likes of me in assisting them,' Darkan replied. 'They used me just as they used you. They captured Rathi, using her as bait, knowing that my skills would lead us straight to them.' He tilted his head in what looked like guilt. 'I should have known better. Finding her so quickly should have alerted me that it was too simple.'

'No sense in worrying about that now,' Thelina said. 'Better to focus on escaping before planning our next move.'

'Conspiring?' said Karam, approaching the prisoners. His self-confidence seeped off him in waves. 'Go ahead and plot all you want. There are more than enough Vizjerei in this camp to deal with potential escapees.'

'Where is Rathi, you bastard?' Thelina snarled. 'If you used her to draw us here, where are you holding her?'

'Somewhere a good deal further than you could reach in time,' the Vizjerei smirked. 'Once we had you, she was needed elsewhere for a more important purpose.'

'What are you talking about?'

'We've discovered some rather…shall we say "unique" attributes about her, and my superiors are most interested to study them.'

Anger flared brighter inside Thelina. 'I swear, if you harm her…'

'You'll do what? Glare at me?' Karam laughed. 'If it's any consolation, she is much more valuable alive than dead at this point in time, although I cannot guarantee that whatever she is subjected to will be painless.'

Thelina could do nothing but struggle with her bonds and grimace as the pompous Vizjerei strode away chuckling. A voice at her side stopped him.

'Why are you doing this, Vizjerei?' Darkan called. 'Surely you have more sense than to associate with demons. Why go through all of this?'

Karam turned. 'You can ask one of your assassin friend's students about that,' he replied before leaving them alone again.

His words struck a chord within Thelina. She looked over at her students. 'What did he mean by that? Do one of you know something about all this?' Her voice dropped to a disbelieving whisper. 'Have one of you betrayed us to the mage clans?'

'No mistress! You know we would not sink so low as to deceive you!' Pyem cried.

'I would swear by my own blood on my own sword that I have remained loyal to the Order!' Ora said.

Thelina looked over at Beck. He was visibly shaking with barely contained sobs.

'Beck?'

'It was never meant to happen this way!' he choked. 'It wasn't supposed to be like this!'

'What are you talking about?' Thelina asked, too shocked to reprimand him.

'He came to me,' Beck explained as he tried to hold back his tears. 'That Vizjerei, Karam…he came to me one night after he sent for us to meet him in the forest. He told me about the necromancer, and about what the mage clans were really doing. He told me to ensure that the necromancer would die, and that the Viz-Jaq'taar would not notice his rituals with the Burning Hells.'

'But why? Why would you agree to something like that?'

'Don't you understand?' Beck cried. 'The Prime Evils are returning! You all saw the omen! The firey star that fell from the sky and landed in Tristram, the very spot of Diablo's awakening!' He hung his head again. 'There is no standing against the power of the Prime Evils should they walk amongst us again. Whatever we do, we're only delaying the inevitable. If the Horadrim could not stop them, and the archangels could not stop them…what hope do we have?'

'And Rathi being kidnapped? Us being captured by the Vizjerei? Did he tell you to do that too?' Thelina's shock was fading, feeding into her anger.

'No! I told you, this was not how it was supposed to happen! When we captured the necromancer instead of killing him, the plan began to unravel, so I tried to call for his death. Since that didn't work, I met with the Vizjerei during the night and they came up with the idea to kidnap Rathi, knowing that the necromancer would attempt to search for her. They told me that they would release her as soon as they had him. I had hoped that we would leave him alone in the forest so that they could capture him, but now…' Beck's voice trailed off.

'How could you?' Thelina was aghast. 'How could you trust the Vizjerei to keep their word? And how could you turn your back on everything the Viz-Jaq'taar stand for? It is through our efforts and those of others that the Burning Hells are kept at bay! If we lose hope so easily, then there will truly be no chance against the demon armies!' Her eyes bored into Beck, who could not meet her gaze. 'Mark my words, you will face retribution for this, traitor.'

Beck looked to each of the others, his face imploring them to forgive him. Each one turned their heads away, refusing to look at him, leaving him in his guilt and shame.

Thelina shifted her attention to their surroundings, assessing possible escape routes. The stakes they were tied to were placed in the centre of the camp, which was sizeable, containing nearly three dozen Vizjerei magi. Slaying all of them would be a nigh-impossible task with their own meagre numbers, but Thelina was counting on the magi's cowardly nature to take over if enough were taken down. The first priority though, was getting free.

'Darkan, can you summon your dagger to yourself? We'll need it to cut ourselves free.'

The Rathmian looked at her quizzically. 'My lady, even if we were to remove our bonds, we are quite outnumbered. Despite all their flaws, the Vizjerei are still powerful combatants.'

Thelina allowed herself a humourless grin. 'Perhaps, but the Viz-Jaq'taar are trained for this manner of combat. Get us loose, and we can take care of ourselves.'

Darkan nodded and closed his eyes, concentrating on silently calling to his dagger. Thelina looked to her students. 'The Vizjerei are going to be alerted the moment the dagger is summoned. Be prepared to take the fight to them as soon as you are free. If you see a chance, recover your weapons, but only if it is necessary. Our lives are more important than armaments.' Pyem and Ora nodded, whilst Beck continued to stare at his feet.

'The dagger comes, my lady,' Darkan warned. Thelina could hear the startled cries of the Vizjerei as the ivory blade flew through the air past their heads. The dagger thudded into the necromancer's stake, slashing through the ropes. In one swift movement, Darkan pulled it out and brought it down through Thelina's own bonds. He had barely cut the rest of the ropes before the Vizjerei were upon them.

Thelina readied herself and let her energies flow. The last couple of days had been somewhat removed from regular procedures, but now she was in her element, standing against the corrupt, her mission clear and straightforward: kill.

The assassin launched herself into the oncoming magi, noting with approval that her students did so too, splitting up and keeping themselves spread out, dividing the attention of the Vizjerei in order to keep them thinking. It had been some time since Thelina had fought against such numbers, and the constant stream of her energies was invigorating. She moved without thinking, losing herself in the continuous movement of her limbs, striking with her hands and feet, sometimes even just her fingertips, targeting the sensitive pressure points that all learned Viz-Jaq'taar were trained to know.

Her students too were not idle, bringing down the Vizjerei quicker than the startled magi could have expected. Beck, recovering from his grief, flew at them with renewed zeal like a living cyclone, channelling his pain and anger into his attacks. Darkan, standing back to avoid the chaos of the fray, supported with curses that turned the simplest of attacks into near-mortal wounds.

The Vizjerei attempted to summon their magic, a weapon that Thelina had no use for, but was far from helpless against. Sending out psychic bursts in her foes' direction, forces like hammer blows knocked them to the ground, dissipating their spells. It did not take them long to realise that the skills of the assassins, combined with the strange magicks of the necromancer, were more than a match for them. The Vizjerei did the only thing left available to them and fled. Thelina would have dearly loved to chase them all down and put an end to their corruption, but there was only one that she sought amongst their numbers.

The Vizjerei Karam, cowardly as he was, had not entered the battle himself, preferring to wait and see which side would gain the upper hand. As it became clear that his fellow magi would not be the victors, he had made a break for it. Fleeing back into the forest, he had not gone far before he stopped, hoping to quickly cast a spell that would send him far away from the assassins' wrath. Just as he was about to release the incantation, he felt the cold steel of a katar against his throat.

'Guess what I found?' Thelina whispered, emerging from the shadows.

Even in such a life-threatening situation, Karam made an attempt at bravado.

'If you kill me, you'll never find your apprentice,' he sneered.

Thelina gave him a wry smile. 'Make no mistake, Vizjerei, you will die, and by the time I'm finished with you, you'll be begging for it.'

Grabbing Karam's robe, Thelina slammed him into the nearest tree. 'You might as well make this easier on yourself. Tell me, where is Rathi?'

'You think you can intimidate me with words, woman? The suffering that I would have to endure at the hands of demons is far worse than anything you could do to me.'

'Is that what you think?' Thelina said. Letting her energies flow to her mind, she sent a powerful blast into Karam's mind. The Vizjerei writhed under the pressure on his thoughts.

'Feel like talking yet?'

'Go…to…hell…'he stuttered.

Thelina blasted him again, applying more force. If she pressed too hard, she could end up shattering his mind. While it was not an undesirable goal, there was information she needed first.

'Tell me, mage. Don't make me dissolve your brain.'

The only sound that escaped Karam's lips was an indecipherable gurgle.

'_Tell me!_' Thelina commanded fiercely, pushing down hard on Karam's psyche.

Disorientated, the Vizjerei whispered drunkenly, 'The mountains…the high peaks…a ritual cavern…'

That was all Thelina needed. With a general direction to travel in, detecting the nexus of magical energy that surely permeated the hidden cavern would be child's play.

'Thank you for your help, Karam,' she whispered. 'Consider our arrangement closed.' A swift swipe of her blade and the corrupt Vizjerei slumped forward, a steady crimson trail leaking from his throat.

Rising to her feet, Thelina returned to magi's camp, where Darkan and her students were waiting, the remaining Vizjerei either dead or escaped. Considering the number of corpses, the majority were of the former. Beck looked up hopefully as Thelina approached.

'Mistress, did he tell you where Rathi is? Will we be able to rescue her?'

Thelina said nothing until Beck was in arm's reach. 'Yes, the information he revealed should be enough to track her down. However, there is one more matter to be attended to.' She looked sternly at Beck. 'Kneel, apprentice.'

Beck could not have looked more nervous as he knelt to the ground. Thelina stepped forward and placed her hand on his forehead.

'Beck of the Viz-Jaq'taar,' she pronounced. 'As a member of our order, you took oaths to defend this land from the forces of the Burning Hells, and from the corrupt that walk amongst the people. For forsaking these vows and betraying the Order to the corrupt, death is a merciful release from the inner torment you should feel. Therefore, as your superior in rank, I hereby bestow the ultimate punishment.'

Gathering her energies once again, Thelina let loose a psychic blast, but rather than holding back as she had with Karam, the assassin poured and pushed all her will into the blow, assaulting Beck's mind relentlessly. Beck himself screamed in a hellish combination of pain, misery and despair.

Pushing Beck to the ground with her hand, Thelina released the last of her attack. 'May you wander this world alone, your guilt all that you remember, your broken mind a symbol of your broken oath, and may Heaven have mercy on your soul.'

Beck curled up into a foetal position, gibbering and shaking, all his memories distorted and lost as his drifted into unconsciousness.

Turning away from the comatose traitor, Thelina faced the others.

'Let's move.'

* * *

Author's Note: I realise this chapter has come so much later than most of my others, so sorry to everyone who was enjoying it. Multiple distractions such as work, exams and Wrath of the Lich King (esp that one :P) kept me from my typing, but I shall endeavour to update frequently again in the future. Ciao for now.


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I do not own Diablo or any content thereof. All lore is either researched or assumed. All character names are of my own invention.

**Chapter 8**

A dull throbbing pain greeted Rathi as she awoke, causing her to instinctively keep her eyes shut.

_I've been attacked, most likely captured, _she told herself. _No need to let anyone nearby know I'm awake until I can assess the situation as much as possible. _

Aside from the pain in her head, Rathi took stock of the rest of her body. Her arms were flung back, with rough iron rubbing her wrists. From the pain in her shoulders, it seemed that her upper body was supporting most of her weight. Gently sniffing the air, Rathi smelt dank air, with a tinge of frost. A slight breeze echoed around her ears.

So, she was definitely captured, held in a cave, seemingly high in the mountains. The position of her arms suggested she was chained to a large rock, suspended in the air, possibly a thick stalactite. A rather mundane prison, if not for the strong magical field that Rathi felt permeating the air around her. Dark magic, even demonic, had been cast here, both recently and some time ago. Deciding to forgo further pretence, Rathi slowly opened her eyes.

Her assessment of her prison was decently accurate. The cave was larger than she had thought, expanding far out to the sides, allowing enough space for a hundred people at least. The stalactite she was bound to was about fifteen feet above the floor, which had been flattened and smoothed. Directly below her on the floor, was drawn a large pentagram, surrounded by various runes and symbols. The red hue of the diagram gave Rathi no illusions about what had been used to create it. Judging by the size of it, more than one person had died to contribute to it.

'Lo, our guest awakens, she does,' rasped a voice from the darkness ahead of her. Squinting through the gloom, Rathi saw a robed human figure emerge from the shadows. It was bent and buckled like an old man, but the glinting eyes that peered out from under the hood that hid its face betrayed no hint of weakness.

'Some more light we should have, indeed,' the creature said, snapping gnarled fingers with a crack like dry wood. Two large previously unseen braziers located at the edges of the pentagram burst into life, illuminating the cave.

'Is she comfortable? Does she need food? Water?' The creature did not wait for an answer, letting out a hacking laugh at its own joke. 'Of course not. Her needs do not matter, they don't.'

'Who are you?' Rathi said, trying to keep her voice calm. This old deformity was not a Vizjerei, she could tell that from his dark robes, but he was clearly no friend to her, and quite possibly mad. To aggravate him would be unwise.

'She does not know, she does not know,' it muttered. 'Does she not know she stands in the presence of Othar the Great? Ignorant she is, ignorant of the greatness of her situation.'

'Yes, yes I am ignorant,' Rathi said encouragingly. 'Perhaps if a great one such as yourself would enlighten me, I would be as honoured as I should be.' _Keep him talking. Find out what he's up to. Stall for time while searching for an escape route._

The mysterious Othar looked pleased that Rathi displayed an interest. 'Enlighten, enlighten, yes, she must know, must know of what awaits her,' he cackled. 'To perform as she must, to not know would be dangerous, dangerous indeed.' He grinned up at her with a mouth full of decaying teeth. 'She must know why she is chosen.'

'Chosen?' Rathi blurted before she could stop herself.

'Yes, yes, chosen!' Othar snarled, irritated. 'She must not interrupt, Othar hates to repeat himself!'

Rathi considered apologising, but settled for nodding silently, simultaneously testing the chains at her wrists. They were made of mere iron, and were of shoddy make too. The seed of an idea sprouted in Rathi's mind.

'Indeed, chosen she is!' Othar continued. 'Chosen, she was not at first, but when she was found, it was known that she would be of great help, great help to what is planned!'

_Focus on the wrist area. Charge the ions in the air, _Rathi thought. She began to gather her energies, slowly so as not to alert the madman below her to her actions.

'Special, she is! Her mind, great strength it contains, great focus. Great power she is able to summon, and great control she is able to hold over it. Such ability, such talent, the plan will be easier made, smoother will operate!'

_He wants me for my ability to focus my energy. How ironic. Spin the ions, faster. Build momentum._

'The energy of the spell, incredible it shall be.' Othar began waving his arms in the air for emphasis, oblivious to whether Rathi was listening or not. 'The focus needed, many mages it will take, much power to channel. With her, it will be easy, so easy! If she shall focus correctly, a conduit she shall be, a focal point! The energy will flow, the portal shall open!'

'Where shall this portal lead, great one?' Rathi asked. _Almost ready. Discover his plan, then end it before it begins._

'Ah, it shall not lead to anywhere, no!' Othar chuckled. 'It shall to this world lead, to this world from another! The omen came, came and signalled that we shall be the ones to open the gateway, and she shall be the one to help us, indeed she shall!'

He was beginning to drift from the point. Rathi decided that wherever the portal Othar intended to open led from, or what was to come through it, were inconsequential at this point. The fact that the mage was insane enough to try and create a tear between worlds told her that anything that emerged from the portal would likely be a serious threat to the world of Sanctuary. She would not let that happen.

'While I am honoured that you should choose me for this task, Master Othar,' Rathi said, 'I fear I must refuse!'

With one final burst, Rathi set loose the energies around her wrists. The iron bonds exploded outwards, the chains shattering. Dropping to the floor, she bent her knees to absorb the shock, letting the energies in her hands ignite the air around them. Her hands balled into fiery fists, Rathi charged at Othar.

'She is a fool, she is!' cried the mage, raising his hand in Rathi's direction. A wall of magical energy shot up from the borders of the pentagram, barring the assassin's path. Rathi struck at the barrier with her burning hands again and again, searching for a weak point.

'Does she not realise the importance of her duty?' Othar's eyes were wild. 'Does she not see the rewards that she might reap?'

Rathi ignored him, instead gathering her energies once again and darted her hands forward in a technique known among the Viz-Jaq'taar as the Dragon Talon. To perform such a move without weapons was considered potentially dangerous to the attacker's hands, but Rathi did not have time to worry about possible broken knuckles.

The impact of the Dragon Talon combined with the flames gathered around her fists made a breach in the magical barrier for the briefest of moments. Any normal human would have missed it. Rathi reacted with lightning reflexes, throwing herself through the hole and out through the other side.

'No! She must not do this!' shouted Othar. 'Othar shall not let her!'

Ignoring the new wave of pain originating from her hands, Rathi whirled to confront the mage, only to see him contorting in his own pain. Before her eyes, Othar threw his head back in a twisted scream, a hellish transformation occurring throughout his body. His skin flushed, turning an unnatural shade of red and purple. Spikes began to protrude from various points, shredding through his robes. An eerie dark glow surrounded him, an aura of shadow and fire. His eyes flashed with demonic flame.

'You shall not escape!' Othar growled in a voice more suited to a giant wolf than the addled sorcerer he had appeared to be before. 'We have come too far to allow something as insignificant as your free will to disrupt our plans!'

Suppressing her surprise that he sounded more coherent when he appeared so savage, Rathi raised her throbbing hands, igniting the flames around them once again.

'Escape is not my plan now,' she said. 'Not until I have purged you from this world shall I flee from this place, demon!'

The fiend grinned maliciously. 'Then be prepared to stay here and die, Viz-Jaq'taar filth! You shall be the instrument of our victory, whether you wish to or not, and I shall enjoy feasting upon your innards when the spell is complete!'

'Enough!' cried Rathi, launching herself at the thing that had been Othar. Twisting in the air, the assassin aimed her strikes at focal points on his body. Assuming there was enough of his former physiology left, her attack would leave him drained and weakened, effective as the venom of the snake the Cobra Strikes were named for.

Unfortunately the transformation of Othar's body was too great, and Rathi's attack did no more than drive it back a few steps. With a roar and the swing of one sinewy arm, Othar sent Rathi spinning back towards the pentagram. She made sure not to cross the edge of the diagram, lest she be trapped again. She would not have the energy to escape a second time.

'You truly believe you can defeat me alone, little one?' sneered the demon.

'If I must,' replied Rathi. 'And if not, my mistress and her other students will be searching for me. If I should fall, they will succeed where I fail.'

Othar grinned again. 'Your precious mistress and her little band are already dead, young fool. Our agents within the Vizjerei clans saw to that!'

Rathi stood dead on the spot. _No…it had to be a lie. Mistress Thelina would not fall so easily to the Vizjerei…it can't be true…_

Distracted by the demon's words, Rathi reacted too late to Othar's next assault, which sent her reeling back into the confines of the pentagram prison.

'I suggest you stay where you are this time,' the fiend said. 'You will see your mistress again after the energy of the ritual consumes you. Who knows, you might even survive our ritual if you co-operate and assist in channelling the energies properly, and then our lord and master will consume you himself!'

'Whom do you serve, demon?' Rathi said, her voice quivering from rage. 'Which of the Lesser Evils have planned this? Azmodan? Belial?'

Othar simply laughed. 'The Lesser Evils? You think that the Lesser Evils have any interest in this world? They squabble and fight over the plains of Hell like children. No, I do not serve them. I serve the true masters of Hell, the Prime Evils!' Grinning at Rathi's growing horror, he leaned in close to the barrier. 'And our cult will be the ones who will be most highly rewarded when we summon the greatest of the Three through our portal.

'Be prepared, Viz-Jaq'taar, to be the conduit for the Lord of Terror, _Diablo _himself!'


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I do not own Diablo or any content thereof. All lore is either researched or assumed. All character names are of my own invention.

**Chapter 9**

Ensteig was a cold country by most people's standards, and the mountains that led north to the barbarian highlands were often covered with snow longer than the winter seasons permitted. The thick layer of white layering the rocks eventually caused Thelina to call a rest after nearly a full day of trudging up the cliffs.

'Half an hour only,' she told her students. 'Eat lightly and regain your strength, and then we set out.'

Ora and Pyem nodded, rummaging in their packs for dried meat strips. Thelina ignored the food in her own pack, instead clearing the majority of snow from a flat rock before sitting down and beginning her meditation. With enough focus, she would be able to regain enough energy that food would not be a factor. A well-trained Viz-Jaq'taar could survive for nearly a week without sustenance if necessary.

Thelina didn't think she could stomach any food anyway. Her worry for Rathi was growing, and the lead assassin could not help feeling slightly responsible. Better she herself had guarded the necromancer that night, rather than letting Rathi do so as some sort of punishment.

Beck's betrayal also brought her unease. The headstrong student had been with her group for near seven years, and to think he had turned his back on them for the words of a Vizjerei. He had been a strong fighter, and would have made a valuable addition to the defence of Sanctuary from the forces of the Burning Hells if he had only seen reason.

'May I, my lady?' came Darkan's soft voice as he sat down next to Thelina. She gave no reply, which he took as an affirmation.

_Should I have killed you, necromancer? _she thought. _Would any of this have happened if you had died? _

Darkan said nothing more, focusing on his own meditation, his dagger in his lap and his Fallen skull trophy in front of him. Neither of the two spoke for many minutes before Thelina finally decided to break the silence.

'Why are you here, Darkan?' she said. 'Should you not continue with your mission to stop the workings of the Vizjerei?'

'I thought that is what I was doing, my lady,' he replied.

'Ora is not the only one of our group that can read people, Rathmian,' Thelina said. 'You hide it well, but I can tell there is more to your being here than simply hunting corrupt magi. Why are you so concerned with finding Rathi? She is not of your people.'

Darkan did not reply, but the minor look of consternation on his face told Thelina that she was delving into personal territory. She pressed on nonetheless.

'Is it because of love that you follow us?' she asked. The prospect of a spellcaster falling for a Viz-Jaq'taar was ironic, even a bit frightening, but it was the only reason Thelina could think of.

The question seemed to throw Darkan a little. He kept his voice even as he spoke.

'Yes, it is because of love,' he said, 'but not love for Rathi, if that is what you think. She is an admirable student, and if she were of my clan she would be greatly desired by many of my people, of that I have no doubt. However, it is love of people I have lost that drives my actions. I am ashamed to admit it. Such attachment is something I should have been able to forget long ago, but after ten years I still cannot let myself drive it from my mind.'

'What are you saying?' Thelina said, slightly confused.

Darkan reached forward and picked up his trophy, turning it in his hands, studying it absently. 'When I was still an acolyte, I studied under various tutors as well as my own parents. One of my teachers was Rohab. I near worshipped him, so great were his skills and mastery over the spirits. In my dreams I hoped to become as renowned as him, to become a servant of the Balance that he and my parents could be proud of.

'It was while I was studying under Rohab that he and my father were sent on a mission in the Khejistan jungle, to investigate Fallen tribes in the area. They had become increasingly bold, some going so far as to attack the gates of Kurast. While they would never be more than a nuisance to the city, we still needed to know what had riled them up.

'I don't know what I was thinking, but I followed them. I sneaked away in the night to follow my father and my idol. I don't know if I thought I could help them, or learn from them, or maybe I just wanted to watch the two greatest Rathmians I knew perform their duties out of admiration. Whatever the reason, I was foolish. I should have known that I would only be a hindrance on such a mission.

'I did not know until I had found them that my mother had in turn followed me, to discover why I had disappeared. She had only just found me when Rohab and my father met with the Warped tribe of Fallen. Ordinarily, the demons would have been easy pickings for our kind. This time, we had underestimated their numbers.

'No matter how many we struck down, they continued to come, their shamans resurrecting the slain ones, the lead shaman directing them with far more co-ordination than was normal for such degenerates. It took time, but we were eventually overwhelmed.'

Darkan's voice began to waver as he fought back tears. 'I fled the battle. My mother shouted for me to run, and I ran. I ran faster than I have ever before or since, and I did not stop before I was home again. I felt appalled at myself, even hating myself for not remaining and fighting. I should not have been there in the first place. My mother's concern for me brought her there, and my father's concern for both of us distracted him in the fight. I had single-handedly been the reason for the deaths of the three people I looked up to most, and I could not have thought less of myself.

'I returned to the Warped tribe not long after, vengeance burning inside me. I was again disobeying the practises of Rathma by doing so, and I did not care. I struck at the tribe by surprise. How I managed to survive such a conflict where three greater than I had died, I do not know. Perhaps my anger was enough to give them cause to hesitate, but I slaughtered them all, even the lead shaman. It is his skull that I carry with me today. The jewel set within was my mother's.

'This trophy is the greatest reminder of what I did, my greatest failure. I swore I would never let an innocent die because of me, or because I failed to act. That is why I follow you, and why I must save Rathi. It is because of me that she has been captured, and I will not let her die because of me too.'

Thelina was at a loss for words. She just looked at the Rathmian, trying to imagine what kind of torment he must have gone through, what he still went through, keeping all that guilt and self-loathing bottled up inside of him every day of his life. Finding her voice, she said gently, 'You cannot blame yourself for wanting revenge, Darkan. To wish for vengeance is human, and despite what you might think, you are still merely human, no matter what creed you follow. I cannot begin to understand how difficult it must be for someone like you to feel this way. Did you ever tell anyone that story?'

Darkan looked up from the trophy at Thelina. 'It has been just over a decade since that incident. I was greatly punished by the masters of my order for what I did. I was almost expelled as a Rathmian priest. It was because I was Rohab's student at the time that they allowed me to stay. They felt that because he had placed his faith in me that I deserved another chance. Still, things were never really the same. It was several years before I stopped receiving condescending looks from my masters. It took more than I had to erase what I had done. None of them could understand why I did what I did. They said I acted on base instinct, that I was reckless, as if I cared nothing for what I had been taught. I let them say such things without objection, because I knew they were right, and no amount of harsh words from them could outweigh the guilt I already felt.'

Thelina hesitated for a moment, and then placed her hand on Darkan's shoulder. He glanced between her and her hand in slight apprehension.

'I would not know what your masters thought of your act of vengeance,' she said. 'But if I had been in your situation, I would have acted no differently. And if I had been your master, I would have been proud of you for avenging your loved ones. As far as I'm concerned, you have nothing more to feel guilty for, Darkan. Not for your parent's deaths, not for acting on instinct, nor for Rathi.'

Darkan quivered, moved by her words. 'Thank you, my lady.'

'Thelina,' she said, giving him a small smile.

'Thelina,' he nodded, giving her a sad smile of his own.

The lead assassin stood and looked over at her students, both still meditating, neither having heard Darkan's story.

'That's enough!' called Thelina. 'Time to move on!'

As Pyem and Ora began gathering themselves up again, Thelina looked back at Darkan.

'Are you alright, mistress?' asked Ora. 'You do not seem yourself.'

'I'm fine,' Thelina replied, keeping her eyes on Darkan. 'I was just thinking how lucky we are that we're all human.'

'What do you mean, mistress?'

'It's good to know we all have hearts…and souls.'


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: I do not own Diablo or any content thereof. All lore is either researched or assumed. All character names are of my own invention.

**Chapter 10 **

'Do you have no soul at all?' said Rathi as she paced the interior of her prison.

Othar simply laughed. 'You should know that demons are infamous for having corrupt souls, little one.' He still had not reverted back to his purely human form, his monstrous body matching Rathi's movements around the circumference of the pentagram.

'You're not a complete demon,' Rathi said. 'You were human once, before becoming this…' She could not find the proper word to describe the twisted form that watched her.

The fiend grinned. 'Only half right. Yes, this mage, Othar, was human once, a very long time ago. These days he is not much more than a frail shell of a body. He gave his life up to follow the call of the Burning Hells. He gained power, influence. We knew he was too valuable to simply let die at the end of his long life. So now I'm here with him, giving him some borrowed time, just until our Lord Diablo is brought back from beyond the limbo to which he was banished. Then Othar will be released from his tormented continued existence and be allowed to die. Considering where he's headed, he should savour every moment left to him in this world.'

Rathi turned away. 'After all that, you'd just let him rot in Hell.'

'Naturally. Hell's rewards favour the living. The price comes at the end of your life. That's why we are so much more attractive than Heaven. Humans want their gratification while they are still alive to enjoy them. Why spend your whole life toiling and suffering while you try to remain pure enough to enter a place that may not even accept you? The High Heavens are a pointless goal. The archangels and their ilk call it eternal paradise, even though they don't realise what humans truly desire. They're greedy, lustful, envious and violent. Heaven cannot satisfy those instincts. Hell allows them to be satisfied while they're still alive to enjoy the satisfaction of fulfilling those instincts.'

'And in return you subject them to never-ending torture agony for the rest of eternity?'

'You'd be surprised what some humans are willing to risk to have what they want. And of course, we don't just hand out favours. There's always a price, for everything.'

_Price._ The word reverberated inside Rathi's head. Had the price of coming here been her mistress' life? Had the price of meeting Darkan been to die for nearly breaking the code of her Order? Was this all some trick of fate to punish her for attempting to twist her beliefs?

Rathi immediately banished the thought. A fatalist she may be, but did not believe fate would be so cruel as to subject her to such a punishment. If it was her fate to die for any transgressions, it would not be as a part of the summoning of a Prime Evil.

'Deep thoughts?' Othar asked with a snicker. 'You appear to have lost your voice, Mage-Slayer. Thinking about your dear lost mistress?'

Rathi steeled herself against his words. She would not believe his lies. Mistress Thelina was alive, and the words of a demon would not convince her otherwise.

'As a matter of fact I am,' Rathi returned, facing the demon again. 'I'm imagining the look on your face when she comes to cut out your throat.'

Othar snorted. 'Such a charmer you are. Your hope is lost on me. I do not fear ghosts.'

Rathi gave him a cocky smile. 'You shouldn't fear ghosts. You should fear my mistress.'

Othar's face twitched. 'Your denial of the truth was admirable at first, but now it's just pathetic. I have no more time to waste trying to convince you. The hour of the summoning is nearly upon us, and I must assemble my followers to prepare for the spell.' He fixed Rathi with a glare. 'You had best prepare yourself too, if you want even the slightest hope of living through this.'

'I suggest you be the one to worry about your life, demon,' Rathi said, matching his glare. 'If you aren't ready by the time my mistress gets here, there won't be any hope for you.'

The fiend snarled and turned away, disappearing out of the cave mouth into the snow. Rathi allowed herself to breath normally again. With Othar gone, even for a short time, she would have time to formulate a new plan.

Sitting down in the centre of the pentagram, Rathi cleared her mind and began to meditate. Expanding her thoughts to the circle of magical energies around the design that made up her prison, Rathi again sought for a weak spot. Frustratingly she found none. Othar had reinforced the spellwork; breaking out would be impossible.

Abandoning that train of thought, Rathi instead considered the summoning spell itself. If she could not escape, she might be able to disrupt it from within. The summoning would need her to focus the energies the mages would call upon, and concentrate them in a single point to allow a rip between worlds to form. If she did not focus them, the spell would not work and the mages would merely waste all their energy. Simple.

_No, it's not_, Rathi realised. By not concentrating the energy, it would run rampant, randomly. The resulting chaos would tear her apart, likely blow up the entire mountain, possibly even cause the earth to split. The local communities in the foothills of the mountain ranges would be in danger from earthquakes and landslides if that happened.

The only remaining option Rathi could see was to focus the energy, but in a different direction than the mages intended. Considering her position, the best choice would be up. The top of the mountain would be blown off, the cave and anything in it annihilated, but the energy would be sent into the sky, allowed to harmlessly dissipate without endangering anyone else. The mountains may have to endure a few more weeks of rain and sleet, but it was better than the alternative.

Rathi frowned inwardly. It was a shaky plan at best. Talented she may be, but she had never channelled such a large amount of energy before. Controlling it into the direction she wanted it to go would be easier said than done. In addition, she had only ever channelled her own inner energy, never any other kind. The principle appeared to be the same, or Othar would not have chosen her for this. On the other hand, it was not energy generated from within her, but magical energy; it was wild and untameable, never before wielded by one of the Viz-Jaq'taar.

Reflecting on her Order brought Rathi's ideas back to Thelina and the others. Rathi knew her plan would claim her life, which she was prepared to give up for the greater good, yet a part of her wished that she could see her mistress again. She knew such attachment was self-sabotaging for a member of the Viz-Jaq'taar, but Thelina had been the closest Rathi had had to an older sister or even a mother. The thought of not being able to even say goodbye forced the young Mage-Slayer to fight back tears.

_Steel yourself. You will need all of your resolve for this task, and all who loved you will remember you for it._ The words were her own, but in Rathi's mind, they were Thelina's.

The sound of footsteps on the cave floor opened Rathi's eyes to have them be greeted by the sight of Othar and several dozen mages dressed in intricate dark robes.

'It's time, little whelp,' the fiend growled.

Rathi stared him down wordlessly.

'Defiant to the end,' Othar snorted. 'And make no mistake, Mage-Slayer, this is most definitely the end for you.'

With a wave of his hand, Othar slowly raised Rathi off the floor, suspending her between the centre of the pentagram and the stalactite she had been bound to.

'Try not to move, it may be more than a little excruciating,' he warned her without any indication that he cared.

The compendium of mages that now filled the cave began to spread out, encircling the design. The hooded figures raised their hands to the cave ceiling and began to chant in a demonic tongue. The syllables were harsh and piercing; Rathi likened the effect of them on her ears to that of a sand maggot's ripping jaws attempting to tear into her skull.

Then she felt it: the unmistakeable feeling of a magical uprising. The magical fields that already permeated the cavern began to grow in intensity, the forces within them starting to become agitated, twitching and jumping as the power increased. Sparks flew through the air from the barrier surrounding the pentagram. Rathi felt the magic start to close in towards her like the jaws of a giant beast seeking to swallow her whole. As the energies came closer and closer, the more fearful Rathi became, and the more she wondered if she would be able to contain such power.

Before she could prepare herself for the inevitable, the magic enveloped her in a crushing wave, suffocating and overwhelming. Instinctively, she began to channel it through herself to prevent it from consuming her. The foreign energy was different from the energies she often called on from her own body. It felt unfamiliar, wrong. While her inner power was soothing and comforting, the magic was like fire and ice flowing through her veins. The sudden onrush was exhilarating and sickening at the same time, a heady feeling of euphoria vying against a wave of extreme nausea.

Desperately trying to pull out of the unstoppable tide, Rathi attempted to align her thoughts. _Up! Send it up!_ she told herself fuzzily, but to no avail. The will of the mages focusing the energy towards the design on the floor was too much, compelling her to channel it in the same direction. If not for the constant concentration needed just to prevent herself from being shredded by the magic, Rathi would have despaired for her failure. She thought she could control something she had never encountered before, and while she knew it would be better for her to die in order to stop this from happening, Rathi desperately wanted to live, if for nothing else but the chance to rectify what would come about, no matter how unlikely it was she could do so.

Though the swirling scene before her Rathi could make out the design of the pentagram beginning to glow with renewed intensity. The middle of the giant glyph was growing dark, a deep swirling vortex of shadow.

And deep, deep inside the black bottomless pit that had opened up beneath her, Rathi could make out two glowing pinpricks of red light coming towards the surface.

Those two tiny motes of fire filled Rathi with more terror than any man, beast or demon numbering in thousands could ever create.

Brought out of her daze by the sudden fear, Rathi heard shouting. Othar was screaming and cursing, not in the demon language, but in Common. Intruders had entered the cavern. Piercing through the noise and confusion, Rathi heard a voice calling her name.

_Darkan?_


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: I do not own Diablo or any content thereof. All lore is either researched or assumed. All character names are of my own invention.

Chapter 11

Darkan pulled himself up onto the snow-covered ridge, doing his best to keep the whirling blizzard from blinding him. Over to his left, Thelina and her students dragged themselves over the edge as well, their heads similarly ducked against the flying snowflakes.

Guided by Darkan's dagger and Thelina's keen sense for detecting magic, they had at last found the ritual cavern. After more than two days of nearly constant climbing, there was not a single one of the four that did not feel fatigue. Hating to admit it, even Darkan's stoic training could not stop him from denying the ache in his body. Doing all he could to ignore the pain, Darkan crept closer to the mouth of the cave and peered inside. Thelina slid up behind him.

'What do you see?'

'Dozens of magi, close on eighty at least,' he replied. 'They appear to be preparing for some kind of summoning ritual. I can see one in particular. He has been twisted by some form of demonic possession.'

'Rathi?' Thelina whispered.

Darkan's expression grew grave. 'The possessed one is suspending her in the centre of their summoning circle.'

'To what purpose would that serve?'

'It is a spot normally reserved for the conduit of the spell. They plan to use her as a core for focusing the energy of the summoning.' The Rathmian's frown deepened. 'It is an unusual choice. Mortal bodies are incredibly fragile when used to channel energies of that magnitude. A magical crystal or artefact would serve them better.'

'But not Rathi,' Thelina said with dawning comprehension. 'Not with what she can do.'

Darkan's eyes grew wide. Trag'Oul's Fang, could they do it?

'We have to disrupt the ritual. If they need to use someone of Rathi's ability to stabilise the summoning, there's no telling what they intend to summon into this world.'

Ora drew her sword. 'So what are we waiting for? If they've started the ritual, we won't have much time left.'

'We cannot simply rush in,' Darkan mused. 'We will have to make it inside without being seen, and attack them from the inside out. The confusion should be enough to break the ritual.'

'But what about Rathi? What will happen to her if the spell isn't completed?' Thelina asked.

Darkan hesitated. 'It is very likely the disruption may cause the magic to destroy her.'

'What?' cried Pyem and Ora simultaneously.

'Silence!' Thelina hissed. 'They might hear.' Turning back to Darkan she said, 'Is there no other way? Is there some way we can rescue her?'

'There is a magical barrier surrounding the summoning circle. Breaching it would take time, too long for us to pull her out. Even if we did, the magic would turn chaotic. Escaping with our lives would be unlikely.'

'There has to be a way out of this, there always is!' Thelina said through gritted teeth. 'I don't want there to be any martyrs, especially not Rathi!'

Darkan lowered his gaze to his feet. He felt the same way. His oath to ensure that he was never the reason for the death of an innocent bound him more than any belief or resolve, and now it seemed there would be no choice but to break it.

'I'm sorry, I really am, but I do not see any other way,' he murmured.

Thelina grabbed Darkan's shirt and pulled his face close to hers, her eyes wild with fury. 'Don't you say that, spellcaster!' she snarled. 'This is magic, and if there is a way, you would know it! And there is always a way! Now think!' She pushed him away.

There were few words that stung Darkan since the death of his parents, but the assassin's words pierced him to the core. He was the expert on magic in their party, and yet he could find no solution.

_Mother, Father, Rohab, I'm so sorry…_

The realisation hit Darkan like a hammer blow and in an instant a plan leapt into his mind.

'I have an idea,' he said, 'but it is a long shot, and there is no guarantee that it will end with us coming out alive.'

Thelina gave him a wry grin. 'At this point, we'll take what we can get.'

Darkan nodded. 'Right. We'll have to –' His statement was cut short by a sudden shift in magical power. The concentration of energy emanating from the interior of the cavern caused all members of the party to stagger.

'I've never felt anything like it,' Thelina gasped, her hand pressed to her temple.

'The portal is opening,' Darkan grimaced. 'We will have to move quickly. There's no time to explain the plan now. All I need to know is: can you make it into the centre of the crowd without being seen?'

Thelina smiled wickedly. 'On that you can be sure, Rathmian.'

Darkan nodded again. 'Very well. Enter their gathering and come out fighting. Leave the rest to me and Rathi.'

'You're sure there's nothing else we need to do?'

Darkan attempted a tense grin of his own. 'You can pray I know what I'm doing.'

* * *

Thelina signalled to Pyem and Ora. 'There is only one way we are going to get close enough to those mages without being seen. You know what to do.'

Pyem grinned. ' "Cloak 'em and smoke 'em." '

The lead assassin suppressed a grimace at the slang term, but nodded. 'Let's do it.'

Drawing their energies out, the three Viz-Jaq'taar surrounded themselves in cocoons of psychic force and, with a tweak of effort, bent the light around them, disappearing from view entirely. Concealed within the Cloak of Shadows, as the Order fondly called the technique, Thelina and her students moved swiftly and silently into the cave.

The mages were chanting, their words picking up pace and intensity, inflating the energy so great Thelina thought it may explode above them at any moment. Although she tried to resist, she looked up at Rathi. The poor girl was clearly struggling to maintain the flow of magic and it broke Thelina's heart to see her in such pain. The sadness swiftly turned to anger. These mages would pay for what they were doing to her student.

'Execute!' Thelina shouted, dissipating the Cloak and bringing her energies to bear on her weapon. Pyem and Ora emerged from their cloaks as well, throwing down twin devices made of a series of metallic wires and chains.

Wild bursts of lightning sprang forth from the devices, spreading through the crowd of mages, whose chanting swiftly changed to cries of dismay and pain. Thelina leapt into the fray, cold wind whirling around her katar. The first mage she struck fell to the ground shivering uncontrollably. The second stopped dead in his tracks, his feet frozen solid to the floor. The third turned to ice completely, falling to the floor and shattering into little shards. The pent up energy of her ice blades was released as Thelina flew forward in a striking Dragon Tail. The mage she struck shattered on impact as a wave of icy cold blew out from his body, freezing several other mages in place, leaving them vulnerable to the lightning traps.

Spinning around, Thelina saw the possessed leader of the mages turn to face her, screaming orders to the rest of his cult. The mages attempted to form ranks of some sort, but Pyem and Ora were not making it easy for them. Lightning flew from Ora's sword while crimson flames sprouted from Pyem's wrist blade, scattering the confused mages left and right. The leader, seeing his orders were not being followed, took matters into his own hands and began to summon power to himself. With a roar he sent a giant fireball in Thelina's direction.

Focusing her power for but a second, Thelina willed her body into the spectral netherworld, allowing the fireball to pass through her intangible self harmlessly. Fading back into full reality, Thelina paused for a fraction of a second to regain her focus and charged the cult leader. Snarling in anger, the half-demon launched more and more fire her way. Rather than using the Fade again, Thelina sent her energy to her legs, willing herself fast enough to dodge the barrage of flame.

Thelina could feel commotion in the air around her, not just by the mages running from the unexpected assault. The energies of the spell were already beginning to unravel as the mages abandoned their work and attempted to flee.

_Darkan, whatever you're planning, do it fast._

* * *

Darkan waited until the Viz-Jaq'taar had revealed themselves before entering the cave himself. Covering himself in his field of blindness, hoping the cultists would not notice his spellwork in the confusion, he made his way around the edge of the cavern towards the summoning circle. Using the craggy walls, Darkan managed to position himself on a small ledge overlooking the design.

His plan was a hasty one, and it relied a lot on simple luck and a bit of faith. While it would work in theory, making it work correctly was out of his hands. It all depended on Rathi.

Looking up at the trapped assassin, Darkan saw her eyes were looking straight down into the vortex that was opening in the centre of the pentagram. Whatever was emerging had her attention gripped in fear. Despite the urgency, Darkan could not help but look down as well.

From the dark void beneath that was the door limbo, Darkan saw the visage of a Lord of Hell. Dark red skin stretched tight over a thick skull, large horns protruding sharp and shiny, glowing red and yellow eyes burning with hellfire, and gaping maw of vicious, predatory teeth. Only one being could instil such terror in man.

_Diablo._

Knowing there was no more time to waste, Darkan reacted, hoping to the High Heavens that this would work.

'Rathi!'

* * *

'Darkan?'

Rathi peered ahead and saw the necromancer perched on a ledge just below her. He was holding something in his hand, something orb shaped, about the same size as…

Instantly she saw his plan and nodded as best she could while still controlling the increasingly wild magical energies around her. She saw him nod as well, pulling his arm back and throwing the object in his hand as far as he could across to the side. Summoning up all of her resolve, Rathi focused on the object, directing the flow of magic directly at it.

The powerful tide of energy struck the Fallen skull trophy in mid-air, keeping it suspended as it drew in all the power Rathi sent its way. The bright blue gem glowed hotter and hotter until the small object could not contain any more. At a shouted command from Darkan, the skull twisted as the energy burst forth in a single concentrated beam from the gem.

The searing stream of magic plunged down into the portal, striking the rising Prime Evil directly between the eyes. Diablo roared in agony, flinging one giant red-fleshed arm out of the pit, groping desperately at anything to try and pull the demon out. It found a grip on a solid object, but the beam's intensity grew.

* * *

Thelina stopped in her tracks as a gigantic demonic hand enclosed itself around Othar. The cult leader screamed in terror as he was hoisted bodily into the air.

* * *

The magical beam from Darkan's trophy pushed harder and harder, forcing Diablo down. With one last attempt, the Prime Evil reached out with his other hand to grab at Rathi. His clumsy snatch missed as a dark cloaked shape leapt from the side to pull her out of his reach. Diablo could do no more than cry out once more as the magic pushed him back into the recess of Limbo, dragging a screaming Othar down with him.

* * *

Darkan landed hard, his arms around Rathi in an attempt to cushion their fall. He turned back just in time to see the last of the magical beam dissipate as the portal closed, the Fallen skull trophy dropping to the floor.

Around him there was chaos. Cult members were shouting and fleeing, the Viz-Jaq'taar slashing at their heels as they ran for the cave mouth. Thelina broke off the chase and rushed to Rathi's side.

'Is she alright?' she asked hurriedly.

'I think so,' the Rathmian replied. 'Rather drained, but that is to be expe-'

'Save the full diagnosis for later,' Thelina interrupted. 'This place is caving in. We have to leave now!'

Darkan looked around. He had not noticed at first in the crowd of fleeing magi, but the cave was indeed starting to fall apart. The wild energies, although well channelled, had been too much.

'Agreed,' he said, helping Thelina pull Rathi up between them. The lead assassin called to her other students, signalling to leave the cultists. The party ran for the cave mouth as the ritual cavern that may have once been able to summon a Prime Evil collapsed behind them.

* * *

Rathi awoke to the smell of dew-wet grass. She opened her eyes to see the forest camp from where she had been abducted. Attempting to rise, she felt herself stopped by a gentle hand on her shoulder. Looking up, she saw a pair of piercing blue eyes that at that moment were filled with concern and happy tears.

'Mistress…'

Ignoring the ache that permeated her body, Rathi pushed herself up and embraced Thelina bodily. Neither of them spoke, the reunion enough for them as it was.

'Good to see you awake.'

Rathi turned to see Darkan sitting on a nearby log. 'I must admit, I had expected you to sleep for another two days at least,' he said.

'How long…?' Rathi could not complete the sentence, her throat suddenly felt too dry.

'Four days,' Thelina answered, holding a waterskin to Rathi's lips. The young assassin drank gratefully. 'It was no small task bringing you back here through the mountains, but we managed.'

'The others, where are they?'

'Pyem and Ora are out hunting. They will be glad to know you're alright.'

'What about Beck?' said Rathi. Then she remembered, the voice she had recognised the night she was kidnapped. 'Beck! Mistress, Beck is –'

'Calm yourself, Rathi,' Thelina said soothingly. 'We know. Beck betrayed us. He was…dealt with accordingly.'

Rathi nodded miserably. She would not wish the ultimate punishment on her worst enemy, let alone someone with whom she had trained for so many years. She looked over at Darkan and noticed something amiss.

'Your trophy…where is it?'

Darkan looked to the side. 'It was lost in the collapse of the cavern, after the portal was closed.'

'Oh my…Darkan I'm so sorry. I know it had meaning to you. I may not know what it was but…'

'It's alright,' he said. 'I think that now without it, I may actually be able to move on with what it meant to me.'

'What do you mean?'

Darkan smiled. 'I think we should save the stories for when we have food to tell them over.

* * *

The next morning, Darkan and the Viz-Jaq'taar made preparations to leave. Rathi had been in a quiet mood all morning, and had barely said a word while packing. It was only when Darkan announced his leaving that she spoke.

'I have something to say,' she began. 'I've been doing a lot of thinking since I woke up after being a part of that ritual. I've been dwelling on the teachings of the Viz-Jaq'taar. As you know, we train our minds so that we may use our physical prowess against the forces that use magic. It is also forbidden for us to use magic in any way or form.'

'Rathi, what are you saying?' Thelina asked.

The red-headed girl turned sadly towards her mistress. 'I was part of a summoning ritual. I channelled magical power. I let it flow throughout my body. I have, as the sages of the Order would say, become tainted by the touch of magic.'

Thelina realised what Rathi was saying. 'No…that's not right. You were forced, you had no choice!'

'I did have a choice, mistress,' Rathi said. 'I could have refused to channel the magic and let it simply destroy me. I willing used it, and as such, I have broken the most solemn oath of the Viz-Jaq'taar.' She took a deep breath. 'I therefore have no other option. I must leave the Order.'

Pyem and Ora gave out loud sounds of protest, and Darkan himself was clearly bewildered, though he said nothing.

'Rathi, you cannot,' Thelina said, even though she knew it was pointless. 'We can talk to the sages, make an exception –'

'No, mistress,' Rathi insisted. 'There can be no exception simply because I am your student. I have to leave.'

Thelina wanted desperately to order her to stay. To lose Rathi, the most prominent of her students, to whom she was closest, she could not bear it again after almost losing her such a short time ago. But Thelina knew the oaths of the Order. There was no escaping Rathi's fate. Drawing herself up, the lead assassin nodded. Rathi gave her a reassuring smile.

'I will make sure I can follow our doctrines as much as I can, even though I am no longer of the Order,' Rathi promised. 'I will still be able to continue this fight, no matter who I am.'

Darkan stepped forward. 'I knew you to be a strong noble person, Rathi,' he said, 'but I never knew you would be capable of such a meaningful sacrifice. Do you know where you will be headed?'

'West, I think. I think the falling star at Tristram has gone without investigation for too long.'

Darkan smiled. 'Perhaps our paths will cross again some day.'

Rathi returned the smile. 'I'd like that.'

Thelina cleared her throat. 'Who can say? The world is not as wide as most believe it to be. We should be gone,' she said to her two remaining students. Turning back to Rathi, she smiled one last time. 'Good luck, little one.'

'Thank you…Thelina,' Rathi replied.

The lead assassin nodded at Darkan. 'Rathmian.'

'My lady,' Darkan said with a bow.

Within the blink of an eye, the clearing lay empty.


	12. Epilogue

Epilogue

Brand Rumslow, innkeeper of the _Driven Snow_, had seen better days. Not many people came to Ensteig around this time of year. Too cold, was the excuse. The idea made him snort. Since when was it not cold in Ensteig? Just too many superstitious adventurers out there too scared to face a little snowstorm to get a decent tankard of grog.

It was therefore to both Rumslow's surprise and joy that a stranger came into the _Snow _that night just before the blizzard outside began to fully take hold.

'Welcome, friend!' the heavyset innkeeper said cheerily. 'Name your poison!'

'Anything,' rasped the man, 'I'm too thirsty to care…'

Rumslow was not a dishonest man, and instantly got the stranger the cheapest of his ales. To look at him, the newcomer could not afford much else. He looked as though he had walked for days without food, and his clothes could have kept the local tailor busy for a week. Rumslow was not about to overcharge a man down on his luck.

The stranger gulped down the ale gratefully. 'Thank you,' he said.

'No problem,' said the innkeeper. 'Refill is on the house,' he added, filling up a new tankard.

'That won't be a problem,' the man said, placing a few gold coins on the counter.

Rumslow inspected the coins closely. 'Easterner's gold, that. You from Lut Gholein? You don't look the Eastern type.'

'No, no I'm not,' he replied. 'At least, I don't think so…'

Rumslow peered at the stranger. 'You seem a bit lost, friend. You at least got a name?'

The stranger looked down at the tankard, thinking hard. From under a mountain of guilt and deep ball of hatred for something called "Viz-Jaq'taar", he unearthed a name.

'Beck. My name is Beck.'

* * *

**Author's Note: **That's it, finished! These last couple of chapters were a long time coming, I know; my apologies to everyone (anyone?) who was waiting for them. Just want to say thanks to everyone who gave their opinions and encouragement. I had fun with this story and if a sequel presents itself, who knows? Cheers!


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